


Les Petits Monstres

by WinterEquinox



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mortal, Dad!Booker, F/M, Kid Fic, Long-suffering friends, Mentions of PTSD, Mutual Pining, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, childhood cancer
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:00:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 36,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26531773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinterEquinox/pseuds/WinterEquinox
Summary: Nile is looking forward to setting down roots in DC after her discharge from the Marines. Living with her brother, learning the city, and starting a new job as a trainer with a local MMA Gym.Booker is a single dad who decided to finally take his friend, Joe's, offer of teaching his sons some basic martial arts to give them a better outlet for their energy. Luckily, the gym has a new trainer who has a lot of patience with children.
Relationships: Booker | Sebastien le Livre/Nile Freeman, Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 554
Kudos: 378





	1. Brothers

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to @yogurtfordinner over on tumblr for reminding me that Tenses are an Important Thing and being an all-around awesome beta!

" _ ONCLE _ JOE!!" a veritable hurricane of sandy-blond hair and excited French babble bursts through the glass door of the gym, charging straight at Nile's new boss. 

Joe throws his arms out and laughs as he is tackled by two young boys that barely reach his waist. Nile catches sight of his husband, Nicky, smirking at them from behind the check-in counter. She can’t even begin to try to understand the frenzied stream of French that flows between the wriggling mass of happiness on the floor. 

The door opens again and a broad-chested, slightly rumpled man with the same sandy hair walks through, sounding exhausted as he calls out "what have I said about running in parking lots,  _ mes fils _ ? You are no use to your  _ oncles _ if you are hit by a car."

"But papa,  _ oncle _ Joe is going to teach us today!"

Joe sits up, ruffling the shaggy mop of hair on the older boy before addressing the elephant in the room. 

"I'm sorry, boys, your silly uncle forgot about a very important meeting at the bank, so I can't teach you today. Miss Nile will be your instructor."

"A  _ girl? _ " the little one's voice is confused. 

"Jean-Pierre, do you think girls cannot fight? What would  _ tante _ Andy say?" The gentle rebuke from his father has the little boy clapping a hand over his mouth.

" _ Désolê _ , Miss Nile"

She laughs and crouches down next to the boys.

"It's ok, I know that Joe is the best. But I think the three of us can have some fun, don't you?"

The boys quickly agree, and after standing and dusting themselves off, introductions are made all around. Jean-Pierre eagerly explains that he is already six years old, and likes school but doesn't like his brother’s teacher, Mrs. Kozak. Philippe is more reserved than his brother, but says that Mrs. Kozak is creepy, but he's old enough at nine to not be afraid of her, really. 

Nicky takes the boys to change while Joe runs out the door for his meeting. Nile holds her hand out to the man across from her.

"Nile Freeman, newest trainer here. Joe begged me to coach some new kids today, are you going to stay and watch?"

"Booker. Yeah, I was planning on staying off to the side. I have some work that needs to be done, but the boys have been looking forward to this all week. Good luck keeping them focused."

He gives her a rueful smile as he readjusts his grip on two brightly colored backpacks and one high quality leather messenger bag. Nile cheerfully directs him to the small waiting area and keeps an ear on his conversation with Nicky as he pulls a laptop out of his bag. She is really regretting only studying Spanish in school. Seriously, all of these people speak more languages than the interpreters she used to work with overseas. One of the perks of being in DC, she guesses, is that so many diplomats and embassies make being multilingual easy.

The young boys are eager to learn whatever martial arts they can. Nile takes them through some very basic forms, gently repositioning their hands and feet, and reminding little Jean-Pierre that you don't have to yell "Hi-Yah!" every time you move. The half hour long session seems to fly by, even with the multiple distractions and cries of "Papa!  _ Oncle _ Nicky, did you see?!"

" _ Oui, mes petits monstres _ , I saw. You did a very good job listening. Now, what do you say to Miss Nile?"

A chorus of thanks echoes in the mostly empty gym as the boys run to change into their street clothes. 

"Philippe is probably ready for a beginner group class, but I think Jean-Pierre is still a little young, maybe you could talk with Joe about a few private lessons? Or maybe he has some students with younger siblings and we could make a tiny-tots class?"

"I'll talk to him about it. I just wanted to get them doing something that they could do together, even though Philippe will be more advanced. I know I can trust Joe, and the boys already worship him and Nicky." She thinks she sees the large man grinning as he watches his sons careen out of the changing area. "Thank you for working with them, Miss Freeman. I know that most trainers prefer to work with those who can actually listen for more than two minutes at a time."

"Like I said before, no problem at all, Mr. Booker. I like working with kids, and I'm honored that you and Joe trusted me with them."

A real smile appears on his face at that, "Le Livre."

"What?"

"Booker is a nickname. My full name is Sébastien Le Livre."

"Mr. Le Livre."

" _ Bonne nuit,  _ Miss Freeman."

****

Chinese takeout is calling her name. She had a great first day at Renaissance Martial Arts, but it was still a first day. Nicky and Joe are incredible, they run the place as though they have one mind split between two bodies. Joe's meeting with the bank went well, and to celebrate he dragged his husband into the sparring ring with him. 

What followed was a truly amazing display of Mixed Martial Arts. Nile couldn't even name half the moves they used on each other, all of it filled with laughter and teasing insults. Yeah, she is going to like it here.

She unlocks the door to her apartment, throwing her jacket at the small table in the dining area and missing completely. Whatever, she'll pick it up after she demolishes the Lo Mein she left in the fridge last night. Stretching her neck and shoulders she takes the three steps to the kitchen, opens the fridge, and stares into its depths.

"Indy? Where's my Lo Mein?"

"What?" comes from the closed door to her brother’s bedroom.

"My Lo Mein? Where is it?"

"Why do you need to know?"

She rolls her eyes, slams the refrigerator shut and marches down the hallway. Her brother’s bedroom door bounces off the wall as she bursts through.

"I'm not playing this game, Indus! Lo Mein. Now"

Her little brother’s head pops into view from behind his computer. He is holding a carton of leftover takeout. Her carton of leftover takeout. He smirks as he raises a forkful of noodles to his mouth. 

"I don't know what you're talking about. No Lo Mein in the fridge. There's some Kung Pao Chicken?"

"You're dead," she says with finality, and launches herself across the room to snatch her food out of his thieving hands.

Twenty minutes later, she is victoriously eating  _ her _ Lo Mein, while Indy grumbles about cheating as he fishes for the last few pieces of chicken in his own container. They are sitting side by side on the couch, watching a mindless dating show and catching each other up on their days.

"How did your arm hold up? Anyone get a hit in?" She shakes her head.

"I only worked with a couple of clients today, one was a girl who has an asshole of an ex, so we talked about low-risk ways to get away from him more than actually fighting back. Then a couple of little boys, who are the cutest things, Indy, I swear." However, now that he has mentioned it, she can feel the tingling racing up and down her left arm, random twinges of pain causing her muscles to spasm irregularly.

"Need an ice pack?"

"Nah. Wouldn't say no to a hand massage, though. I'll return the favor, even. How's the paper coming?"

He launches into a description of the terrors of academia that she has no hope of keeping up with. Nile chuckles to herself as she watches her brother slam his now-empty carton onto the coffee table so that he can face her as his rant pours forth. Her baby brother, who she remembers used to dig in the empty lot one block over when they were little, determined to find dinosaur bones, and only coming up with a rusty beer can and a broken syringe. She missed him so much on her tours. He is still lanky, but the awkwardness of his twelve year old self is long gone, replaced with a terrifyingly smart young man who is determined to change the future by dragging the past into the spotlight. She does hate that he is now near half a damn foot taller than her. Stupid genetics. 

Moving in together when she returned to the States was the best decision she could have made. She knows that her mother is happy that she is keeping an eye on Indy, since she isn’t ready to break ties with Chicago just yet. Nile is just glad that she doesn’t have to try and adjust to living fully on her own after years of close quarters living. She knows some of the other Vets in her group session are struggling with that. Her weaknesses are cars and busses. Indy is great about distracting her when they take an Uber on their occasional nights out, but she much prefers to be on her motorcycle, not trapped in walls of metal and fiberglass.

"And don't get me started on this dumbass in my History of Medicine course. He literally said, and I quote, 'what is the point of creating a medication if there is no profit?' What in the Hell, Nile? You should be proud that I didn't deck him right there. Who let him into the school? Like, how big of a check was stapled to his application?" She drags herself back to the present as Indy slumps back onto the couch, bonelessly sliding over until his head connects with her good shoulder. 

"Awww, did the little boy tire himself out with his tantrum?"

"Shut up, you're the one who asked," he chuckles. "Do you want me to work on your arm now, or after the show is over?"

"After. I need to know who goes home. Ashley K. or Ashley B."

"It's gonna be Brittani-with-an-I. The Ashleys are good for Drama."

He is right. Too bad, Nile thought Brittani-with-an-I was sweet. Probably too good for Dave in the long run, though.

They go through their usual nighttime routine, and once they have both taken their showers they reconvene on the couch. Indy pulls out the liniment that seems to help the best on stressful days, and begins working it into her skin, starting with her neck, then slowly moving down her left arm, carefully manipulating the scarred skin. She stares at a spot on the wall over the dining table. She never did pick up her jacket, she thinks to herself. Anything not to look at his furrowed brow, the sadness that he can never hide when faced with proof that his big sister isn't the indestructible superhero that he always imagined. 

In silence, he hands her the bottle after he is done, and she pays the same attention to his broad hands, noticing the knots that had built up from hours working at the computer. She may not be able to keep him from getting carpal tunnel later in life, but she can make sure to limit the odds. They both go to bed, and Nile closes her eyes, praying that she won’t dream tonight.


	2. Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again to @yogurtfordinner for the amazing beta work and helping me clarify Booker's backstory (I owe you a fruit basket).
> 
> Also, as a heads up, I don't really have a cohesive Posting schedule in mind. My intention was maybe once a week. but.....this family just won't shut up.

Booker diligently reviews the latest proposed job. It seems to be a good fit, certainly better than the spoiled little boy who wanted the _hottest_ bodyguard available to go to a red carpet event with him. He briefly considers sending _that_ piece of comedy gold on to Andy, but then decides that he likes his spleen where it is. He politely rejects the little rich boy, and refers him to a few of the pricier escort services in town. If they are hot enough for senators, they should be hot enough for this little pissant, plus there is no harm in helping the women earn some money.

Quynh pours herself a glass of water, somehow managing to make sitting in his cramped office look like a photoshoot for Vogue. They have performed this waiting game more times than he can count.

"Yesterday I met the law firm next door’s lovely new paralegal. "

"Only 20 minutes. You're losing your touch, Quynh." He exchanges smirks with her before passing the most pressing of job prospects up the email chain for Andy's final approval.

"I have a lunch date that I can't bear to miss. I'm also running out of women in the area that could potentially pass my wife's scrutiny. So, unless you are willing to be flexible on the gender of your partner…"

" _ Non,  _ it is not for me. Any man I dated would undoubtedly love Joe or Nicky more, and for that matter, what woman wouldn't give her heart to Andy or yourself just as easily. I am happy,  _ ma soeur _ . I promise."

"You are content. I haven't seen you happy since Jean-Pierre was born," that one stings a bit, he admits. He loves his sons and he had loved their mother, but as much as he envies the partnerships that his friends have, his sons come first.

"It has only been four years. The boys are finally making progress with this new counselor. I will not risk that for a fling with one of the pretty girls you deem acceptable." When did he stand up? His hands are trembling as he presses them into the solid mahogany of his desk. He takes three deep breaths, then lifts his gaze to Quynh, who hasn't moved a muscle.

"I'm sorry, little brother, I should not have pressed. You know that we all just want to see you with someone who will treasure your family as you do." She stands gracefully, and squeezes his shoulder as she walks to the door of his office.

"Oh, Andy wanted me to confirm that we are taking the boys home with us after your game on Sunday?"

"Yes, if you're sure it's not a bother. Joe is planning a celebration already."

The cutting glance was answer enough. Guess he's free to go out with the guys after all. He returns to sifting through the few service inquiries that he has left to go through, then double checks that there haven’t been any major changes in invoicing before tackling the main portion of his job. 

Booker has been working with Scythian Security for over ten years. Andy had first tried to recruit him when he was barely 18 years old, after Lykon, former tech specialist found a backdoor that Booker had left open when he was doing research on a black market pharmaceutical trafficker that had been wreaking havoc in his city.

Booker will never admit it to anyone, but he pissed himself when Andromache Scythian barreled through the door of his dilapidated hideout twenty years ago, demanding to know where the hacker that had leaked the trafficker’s information to the authorities was. When he finished explaining himself (and his soul returned to his body), she grinned at him with too many teeth to be fully friendly, and told him that if he ever wanted to make some actual money, to reach out to her and she’d get him set up. Once he realized that she was A) not going to kill him, and B) on what he believed to be the Right Side of history, he took her up on that offer. The friendship he made with the older woman and her wife, as well as his new mentor Lykon, who retired not long after Booker was settled, was what got him through the most difficult time of his life. He wouldn’t trade that for the world. 

Now he is one considered to be the best in the industry in tracing digital paper trails and uncovering discrepancies in financial statements. There is a certain dark enjoyment when he is able to reveal that the person who hired them is the one embezzling, and save the livelihood of whichever schmuck had been identified as the scapegoat. Quynh is in charge of identifying external threats and possible weaknesses in physical security systems, and Andy is always the one with the master plan, who isn’t afraid of getting physical when necessary. 

The rest of his day is uneventful, and he is grateful that he won’t have to sic Andy on any of their own clients, and they can focus on their much more rewarding side project of tracking human traffickers. Well, calling it a side project would be underselling it--internally funded, primary objective is more accurate. Scythian Security has been channeling a significant portion of the profits from their for-hire jobs into The Old Guard program since the beginning. They operate on a skeleton crew to minimize expenses while being able to become both highly specialized and in great demand. The fact that no one tries to double cross Andy after an initial meeting helps. 

All of that doesn't mean that there aren't still idiots who see Scythian as a simple guns-for-hire operation, or that they are weak for being led by a woman. The detractors are fewer and fewer with each year that passes, but it is still irritating to be the one that has to sort through the insulting job offers to find worthwhile operations to present to Andy. He decides that after lunch he will focus on the latest information regarding a potential trafficking ring based in the Midwest, and try to do some good in the world.

******

There is finally a chill in the air, so Booker decides to park his car at his townhouse and walk the two blocks to pick up the boys rather than fighting through the pickup line at the school. He nods to the security guard on duty as he strides into the fenced-in Private school and takes his place next to the assortment of nannies, assistants, and stay-at-home mothers. Thankfully they are all too focused on the latest gossip to hit on him today.

The heavy wooden doors open with a groan and a tidal wave of children spill into the courtyard. They are a kaleidoscope of skin tones, languages, and age, wearing matching uniforms in varying stages of disarray from the day. He spots Jean-Pierre carelessly swinging his backpack onto his shoulder, catching a poor, unsuspecting classmate in the back of the head. Both boys are too busy to notice or care. 

Jean-Pierre notices him leaning against the wall, and sprints the few yards towards him, screaming "Bye, Timothy!!!" over his shoulder as he runs. Booker catches his son in a hug and asks for a rundown of the day, which Jean-Pierre delivers with the manic energy that only exists in the minds of young children. 

They have to wait a little longer for Philippe to appear, and when he does his teacher, Mrs. Kozak, is by his side. Booker suppresses a groan. The woman is intense and tends to watch the students as if they are part of some kind of psychological study. He does get a smile out of Philippe as they approach, so he feels reassured that there isn't anything wrong. 

"Mr. Le Livre! I'm so glad you're picking the boys up in person today, I was just asking Phillipe if he had remembered to ask you about the upcoming field trip?"

"The one next month?  _ Oui, _ he mentioned it. The zoo in fall sounds like a wonderful time." He holds his arm out, and Phillipe leans in for his customary hug. 

" _ Well, _ we are a little short on chaperones, and I was hoping that you would be available?" Her smile reminds him of the terrifying Cheshire Cat from the Alice in Wonderland live action movie years ago; too wide, too sharp, and a little too willing to lead one astray. 

"Ah, I will have to check my work schedule. When do you need an answer by?"

"Two weeks, if that is alright? Also, the zoo is hosting a trick-or-treat program to celebrate Halloween, so start thinking about a good costume!"

With a tight grin, Booker assures her that they will come up with something extraordinary, then quickly walks his sons home so that they can grab something to eat before changing for their martial arts lesson.

He was hesitant when the counselor suggested Karate or something similar for the boys a month ago, but after speaking with Joe, he was reassured that there wouldn't be a focus on sparring or hitting each other. He doesn't want his sweet, loving sons to have inherited his capacity for violence. And after their first class with Miss Freeman two weeks ago, all worries have vanished. 

Philippe is now in a beginner group lead by Joe, and his soft spoken child is beginning to make some friends, particularly a girl named Misty who speaks enough for the both of them. Jean-Pierre is in a smaller class with his idol, Miss Nile, who can do no wrong in the boy's eyes. Booker can already see the improvement in his son’s confidence, and hopes that this will be the breakthrough the family counselor keeps talking about. 

"Miss Nile!!!! I'm gonna be a PIRATE!" Never let it be said that Jean-Pierre doesn't know how to make an entrance. To her credit, the young woman doesn't miss a beat, laughing as he slides to a stop between herself and Joe.

"Are you going to steal my gold?" She gestures to the new adornments in her braids, small golden cuffs and rings flashing in the light where they are wrapped into a bun on top of her head. Jean-Pierre considers this for a brief moment.

"No, you can keep those. I will get you more though, you missed some spots."

“But if you’re going to be a pirate you’ll be gone on adventures all the time, and I’ll miss you!”

Booker loves the sound of his youngest’s laugh, echoing off the ceiling of the gym. “Not a  _ real _ pirate! For Halloween!”

“Oh, that’s OK then, I don’t have to miss you so much. I can't wait to see the Dread Pirate Jean-Pierre! What about you, Phillipe? Are you going to sail with your brother?”

“I want to be a Knight. I don’t like boats very much, plus Knights protect people instead of stealing.”

“Pirates have Monkeys and Parrots!!!! Knights only have stupid horses--”

Joe steps in before the squabble can become an all-out brawl. Booker does a quick double check that both boys have their water bottles, and then heads over to hang out at the check in desk with Nicky. There are only a couple of other parents that stay to watch, others taking advantage of an hour of child-free time to get errands done. Booker likes to catch up with his best friend’s husband, plus Nicky has no qualms about slapping his hand if he tries to check his work email.

“You know if you do that now you will just get worked up. It is Friday, act like it.” The Italian man’s dry tone belies the grin lighting up his eyes. Booker might be imagining the infatuated sigh coming from Joe’s area of the gym, but he probably isn’t. Together, they watch as Joe leads his class through some basic forms and stretches to warm up, before partnering the children together. Booker is happy to see Misty run across the mat, curly red pigtails flying, to grab Phillipe’s arm. He shifts his gaze to Nile’s class--which can best be described as a tornado of flailing limbs and laughter, with Nile acting as a magnet, pulling the chaos to her calming presence. Booker is struck by the thought that she is dressed much more modestly than most women he sees at the gym, always in leggings and a black long-sleeve compression shirt bearing the gym logo of a Moon and Sun with “Freeman” printed across the shoulders in gold. By contrast, Joe and Nicky both wear loose sweatpants and fitted athletic shirts with the same logo and “al-Kaysani” on the back. Come to think of it, Nicky’s shirt looks suspiciously loose.

“Is that Joe’s shirt, Nicky?”

“What is his is mine,  _ amico _ , do not question it.”

“You didn’t even check before you got dressed, did you?”

The sly grin aimed his way is answer enough. Booker chuckles to himself. Yes, he is very glad that he followed the counselor’s suggestion. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have some Booker POV! Nicky wears Joe's shirts and that's why the never fit. I will Die on this Hill and shove it in the face of anyone who will listen. Not as much Nile in this chapter, but....I did say it was a Slow Burn. You're at my mercy now.


	3. Heros

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sigh* I don't even know anymore. This chapter wasn't even in the plan. then @yogurtfordinner said "OMG are you gonna write the Zoo outing? Like maybe they run into Nile and Indy there?"
> 
> and i responded "WELL NOW I AM"
> 
> So... yeah, blame @yogurtfordinner for this. and Jean-Pierre. because that little boy is running the show now, I think.

Nile is having a good dream. There are leaves falling through the air and laughing voices all around her, full of love. She dances in her father’s arms, his big, horribly off-key voice singing along to the crackling Etta James record, changing the words--  _ ”At last….your love has come along…”  _ and he spins her out to pass her hand to--

Indus crashes through her bedroom door, wearing red-tinted goggles and an incredibly realistic Falcon costume, wing pack and all. Nile falls off the bed, barely missing hitting her head on the nightstand on the way down. 

“All my assignments are complete for the week. It’s Halloween. We’re going to the Zoo!”

“What in the ever-loving  _ fuck _ , Indus?!” Nile throws a pillow at the overgrown man-child that stands in her doorway. He dodges it --barely-- and throws a black cat-suit and red wig at her face. 

“Boo at the Zoo. I earned it. You’re coming with so I’m not the only adult in costume. Because my girl in the theater department hooked us  _ up  _ with some amazing Avengers suits and I’m not wasting mine on a frat party. Chop chop! Zoo opens in an hour, and I am getting some candy.”

The door rattles in its frame as he exits the room. Nile sighs, and tries to remember her dream.  _ Oh well, it’s gone now. _ Laying out the items that had been dumped on her, she resigns herself to spending the next half hour arranging her wig.

****

Once Nile is awake enough, she agrees that getting away from life for a while is a good idea, plus she hasn't been to the zoo in years. Indulging her brother’s strange sense of humor is a bonus. She refuses to wear the high heeled boots that came with the costume, instead pulling out a pair of black combat boots that she had stashed in her closet when she moved in. Indy pouts for a second, until he realizes that if he pushes his big sister much further, she will use her considerable skills on him - and he hasn’t received any training to defend himself.

Indy insists on taking her motorcycle to the zoo - so as many people as possible can admire their holiday spirit. Nile refuses to let him drive because, “it’s my bike, dumbass, who has been trained in evasive maneuvers? Hint: NOT YOU.” She giggles as they pull away from the apartment building, revving the engine and hearing her brother squeak and cling to her tighter. Traffic is light --her delay in leaving caused them to miss rush hour-- and they reach the zoo about half an hour after it opens. They purchase their tickets, ignore the side-eyed glances from the more stuck up patrons, and cheerfully pose for pictures with a few children who are also in costume. Actually, there seem to be a lot of kids running around.

“Damn, it’s Friday, ain’t these kids supposed to be in school or something?” Indy grumbles as a tiny Frankenstien pushes past him to see the giraffes.

School. Friday. Costumes.  _ Oh, no. _

“Field trip… Philippe had a field trip this week.”

“Who is Philippe?”

“One of Joe’s students, I have his little brother. I know I've mentioned them before."

"Oooohhhh, the ones with the Hot Dad?" he wiggles his eyebrows over the tinted goggles, grinning broadly at her discomfort. Nile is never drinking margaritas around her brother again. He uses her weaknesses against her and then stores the blackmail in five different encrypted files.

"No! Well… yes, but…  _ ugh, _ that's not the point. There is a very real chance that Philippe is here with his class, and he could see me dressed up as a superhero on my morning off, when I am supposed to be an  _ adult  _ who demands respect."

Indy shrugs, clearly not as torn up about this as she is. Which, fair, she may be a little more nervous than the situation calls for, and he's also in costume, but his isn't a  _ freaking skin-tight catsuit _ . 

"I'm really not seeing the problem here, sis. Just tell him that being a martial arts teacher is a cover, and your  _ real _ job is being a SHIELD Agent. He'll eat that shit up. Plus, it's a big zoo, and there are like a bazillion kids running around. We probably won't even see him. But what we  _ are _ going to see is the lions, c'mon."

And that was that about that, as far as Indy was concerned. Don't worry about the possible problem until it becomes a for-real problem. Nile tends to plan for every possible tragedy and is stunned when they don't happen. 

They watch the lions lounging in the sun and the tiger stalking a stray leaf that was skittering across his enclosure. Nile takes the lead after that, wanting to watch the otters play on the other side of the park. They get stopped by kids a couple more times, including a tiny Black Panther and Shuri, who are so excited that they ask their mom to post the picture on their school's Instagram page. 

They are passing in front of the picnic pavilions when it happens. Nile hears a young boy's voice sneer, "that's stupid, she can't be Black Widow, she's black!"

Indy rolls his eyes behind his goggles and Nile glues on her most artificial smile, preparing to deal with this in the most neutral way possible.  _ Can't we just have one day? _ Suddenly, someone else comes to their defense. Her knight in shining armor.

"Don't say that about Miss Nile! She's better than Black Widow, she's real,  _ and  _ she knows how to do real fighting stuff."

"Nuh- _ uh _ . How would you know? Nobody asked you, stupid, you're so dumb even your mommy didn't want you anymore!"

Is she really considering throwing hands with a nine-year-old in a truly crappy cowboy costume, complete with a plastic sheriff's badge? Maybe. It's not her proudest moment. But Phillipe is standing there, back straight, shoulders squared, in his black and silver knight costume, and all she can see are the tears threatening to spill over in his shining blue eyes.

"Philippe! I love your costume! Come here, let me get a better look." She waves at him, beckoning him closer to her - and away from the cowboy. He turns to face her and swipes at his face with one faux-chainmail sleeve. 

"You look really pretty Miss Nile. Better than the real Black Widow." He's speaking to her shoes, so she kneels down until he has to make eye contact. 

"Thank you, Philippe. That means a lot to me. And thank you for standing up for me just then, you're better than any real knight. Where's your dad? Isn't he supposed to be here too?"

"Philippe! Don't talk to strangers,  _ mon fils _ , you know--oh,  _ désolê, _ Nile, I didn't recognize you with the new hairstyle."

"It's just for the costume, don't worry, Booker. Red isn't my go-to look." She waves him off and does her best to not melt into a puddle on the spot. Because of course Booker would dress up to make his son more comfortable, and of course he would dress as one of the most iconic heartthrobs of her childhood. From the battered hat to the rumpled clothes with the sleeves rolled up his forearms, and from the satchel thrown across his chest to the whip tied at his belt. Indiana Jones, in the flesh.

Nile climbs to her feet, shyly smiling at Booker, who is towering over them, looking startled to see her there. His eyes are flitting over her outfit, and she can feel the heat of embarrassment flooding her cheeks. She shoves an errant curl of red hair behind her ear, and remembers why she never relaxes her hair - it just gets in the way. 

"Are you really the Falcon? Are you friends with Miss Nile?" Philippe's soft voice breaks her out of the trance of  _ arms-chest-WHIP. _

"As a matter of fact--"

"Do  _ not! _ " She snaps over her shoulder, glaring at her brother who has a broad grin splitting his face. "Don't let him lie to you, Philippe, this is just my silly little brother, Indus. Indy, meet my friend Philippe and his dad, Booker. Booker is friends with Joe."

"Great costume, man. Indiana Jones was my hero growing up." Indy holds his hand out, and Booker grips it firmly, with a small smirk.

"Thank you, I went digging through my closet and had enough stuff that I felt it was close enough."

"Even the whip?"  _ Oh god, did she say that out loud?  _

"No, no, the whip I borrowed from my boss. And I learned early into our friendship to never ask questions about the implements that she can produce at a moment's notice."

Indy quickly begins asking Phillipe about how his morning at the zoo has gone, and they trade notes on their favorite exhibits so far. Apparently, the teachers took the children through a quick tour, and they would be free to explore in small groups after lunch. 

Booker asks how she came upon them, and she gives him a brief rundown of the incident before he arrived. His face darkens with a rage that she did not expect, and he growls out a stream of French that she doesn't know the meaning of but sounds very menacing ( _ and hot _ \-- _ not helpful) _ .

“I’m sorry that happened, Nile. I know which boy you’re talking about, Philippe’s had problems with him all year. If you want, I can speak to his parents about it? I don’t know that it would help, they are both assholes, but…” He grimaces, obviously not sure what he can do to make the situation better.

“It’s not your fault, besides, you’re the one raising your boys to stand up when they hear that kind of bullshit. That’s more important in the long run.” They fall into a comfortable silence, watching as Indy slowly becomes surrounded by more of Philippe’s classmates, and Misty --who looks adorable as Merida complete with plastic bow-- bounces up to them, declaring that she is going to spend the afternoon with Philippe and his daddy, and lunch is over, so they should hurry up and pick where they want to go next.

“I don’t want to interrupt your day off, Nile, but would you want to join us for a while?” He’s not looking at her as he asks, and she catches his hand fiddling with the handle of the whip out of the corner of her eye. She glances up to catch his eye, and smiles broadly.

“That sounds great. We were on our way to watch the otters, is that OK? I’ll tell you all about Indus’ continued hero-worship of Indiana Jones on the way.” The crooked smile that blossoms across his face seems to make the exhaustion that surrounds him fade away.  _ He is beautiful, but hard, like a statue of an ancient warrior who is tired of fighting--where the hell is this poetry coming from, pull yourself together, Nile. _

Indy leads their little group to the otters, and they get there just in time to see a zookeeper start playing some games with the animals. Booker kneels down so that Philippe can sit on his shoulders, and scoops Misty up easily in one arm so that both of the kids can see over the heads of the other spectators. Nile bites the inside of her lip at the display and Indy bumps her with his elbow. 

"I get it, but if you start drooling you're gonna give Black Widow a bad name." She stomps on his foot. Booker is the parent of one of her students, and as gruff as he comes across, he seems to be a genuinely good guy. Just because she's never heard anyone mention the boys’ mother or any current partner, doesn't mean that there isn't one. Better for her to not entertain the idea of how his eyes soften as he watches his oldest child excitedly lead Misty to look at the giant tortoises. Not to imagine what it may feel like to be wrapped in those arms. They have the potential to become good friends. Best to not jeopardize that.

The rest of the afternoon passes quickly, and the three adults (only by legal standards in Indy's case) enjoy following behind the children as they bounce between exhibits like multicolored pin-balls. Nile imagines she can hear the chime of points racking up when they slow down long enough to actually  _ look _ at the animals. Conversation flows easily, and Nile takes the opportunity to embarrass Indy further by explaining to Booker that his hero-worship of the fictional Dr. Jones caused him to pursue his double-major of Archeology and Anthropology. She then loses track of the topics they discuss; music, movies, books… They talk about them all and trade recommendations.

Before they realize it, it is time for the children to go back to school. Nile confirms that they will be at class tonight, and Booker’s half-smile flits across his face. 

"Of course, Jean-Pierre is very excited about the treasures he collected for you. Act suitably impressed."

"I'm sure I won't have to act." She waves to them as they climb onto the bus, and notices that some of the other chaperones are glaring at her after Booker passes them. Strange. She shrugs it off and turns to head back to her bike, slamming into Indy's chest as she does.

"Shit! What the hell, man?!"

Indy looks down at her, up at the bus that is now pulling away, and back to her.

"You know you're like, 75% in love with that guy, right? Like, I want to make sure that you are aware of this."

"I'm absolutely not, and it wouldn't matter if I am. Don't worry,  _ Dr. Jones _ , I can handle myself."

He doesn't seem to believe her.

******

Nicky is wearing a monkey tail and a fez. That is all that Nile is capable of processing right now. Long, curly tail. Purple and red fez. Purple vest. Brown harem-style pants. No shirt. She looks at Joe, desperate for some kind of explanation, and sees him leading an advanced class dressed in a similar attire--white pants, red fez, no tail. 

“What is happening?” She whispers in horror, and Nicky rolls his eyes.

“It is Halloween, yes? Joe wanted us to dress up. You dressed up too!” He finishes accusingly.

“Nicky, you have a  _ tail _ .”

“Well, I am the monkey. Joe makes for a much more convincing Aladdin than I could.”

She tries to hold the laughter in, really, she does, but then Nicky turns to answer the phone and The Tail sways behind him and she notices the thin wire attaching it to his tiny Fez and the next thing she knows she is gasping for air and clutching the check-in counter with tears streaming down her face. Nicky glares at her as he continues to handle the phone call.

The advanced class wraps up, and Nile continues her relentless teasing of her employers as they wait for the beginner and tiny-tots to arrive. Joe is very impressed with her costume, even asks her to model for him as he needs to practice drawing women, and she agrees.

Misty is the first of the beginners to arrive, still in full Merida regalia. She tells Joe all about their field trip, and that she got to meet "the  _ real _ Falcon! He knows Miss Nile!" and Joe is appropriately impressed with this revelation. 

"I think it's great that everyone is enjoying the day, even Booker got in on the spirit. Looking  _ good _ , Book!" Joe wolf-whistles and calls the last part over to the doorway, where the Le Livres are walking in, led by Jean-Pierre as usual. 

"If only my hands weren't full, I could show you how much I appreciate the compliment,  _ mon ami _ ." Booker smirks back at Joe, who throws his head back and laughs. He still has the damn whip attached to his hip. 

Jean-Pierre rushes to Nile, pirate hat askew, drawn-on mustache and goatee smudged, red scarf belt flapping behind him. 

"Miss Nile! Miss Nile! I got you doubloons!" He waves a pouch bulging with something over his head and breathlessly waits for her to open it. "You don't….you don't have your gold today," he pants, pointing at her hair, "did someone steal it?"

"Doubloons! Arrgh, I'll have to hide them away with the rest of my treasures, I don't have a strong mate like you to protect them from my evil brother!" She proclaims in an exaggerated pirate accent, before tying the pouch to her belt and taking the little boy's hand to get him to their assigned mats.

"Alright you terrifying ghosts, ghouls, and goblins! Let's get started!"


	4. Confidants

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Booker, Joe and Nicky go out for drinks, Nile crashes the party.
> 
> Later, Booker gets to see Nile in her element, and has a highly inappropriate realization.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Guys! I'm at a family event in West-Central Texas, and there is almost No Service. Apologies for the late posting!
> 
> CONTENT WARNING: There is a description of a Panic Attack, and discussion of past trauma in this chapter. if you would like a summary before you proceed, check the end notes.  
> This is not graphic, but I dont want anyone to get blindsided.

The bar is crowded for a Saturday, but somehow Joe manages to find a booth and flag down a server for menus. Booker relaxes into the bench seat, happy with the practice that he and Joe had just left. This is Joe's first year as captain after five years of playing on the same football team (he refuses to call it soccer, no matter how many Americans join the team). Booker knows he isn't built like a typical player, but he is surprisingly fast for his size and he and Joe are a lethal pairing on the pitch. Practices are still exhausting, but the dinner and drinks afterwards more than make up for it.

  


Joe leans against Nicky on the opposite side of the booth, Nicky’s arm draped across his shoulders, and they frequently bump each other with their hands and arms as they gesture to emphasize their points. Booker grins into his pint, and takes on the role of counterpoint just to stir up his friend. Joe is hilarious when he gets riled up. Nicky rolls his eyes at the pair of them, and places a calming kiss to Joe's curls anytime it seems that their appetizers are in danger of being thrown across the table.

  


Their server hurries over with their meals, apologizing as she sets them on the table. 

  


"Guys, I'm so sorry, I have a family emergency and need to leave, do you want me to close out your tab, or transfer it to a new server? Don't feel that you need to rush." She is wide-eyed, chewing on her lip and rapidly spinning a ring on her index finger. 

  


"Here,  _ chérie _ , I'll cover our tab, can we keep the booth and get drinks at the bar?" He hands over his card, waving away Joe's attempt at pulling out his own wallet.

  


"That'll be fine, I'll let Tony know to take care of you, thank you for understanding!" She dashes away, and Joe stands to get them another round from the bar. When she returns, Nicky hands the girl an extra $10 on top of the tip that Booker scrawls on the receipt before he hands it back.

  


Joe is stuck in the crush of people at the bar, Booker is happily demolishing the burger he ordered, and Nicky is scrolling through his phone when it buzzes in his hand. He chuckles to himself, and Booker raises an eyebrow at him.

  


"It appears Nile is ‘Regretting her life choices’ right now." He turns his phone to Booker, who can hear the soft pounding of some type of techno music coming from the tiny speakers as Nile's exasperated face takes up the screen, mouthing  _ I'm gonna kill him, _ with the captions  _ #IRegretEverything #WhoNeedsBrothers? #FML _ floating around her head. Booker chokes on a French fry as he laughs. 

  


“Would it be alright if I invited her to join us?” Nicky pulls his phone back, opening up a text message as he does.

  


“Why wouldn’t it be? You and Joe don’t have a problem with spending downtime with your employees.” Booker shrugs as he takes another large bite of his burger. Nicky narrows his eyes at him, mouth twisting into a frown before he sighs and shoots a quick message to Nile.

  


“I just didn’t know if you were comfortable with having someone joining us, I know how new people are… difficult”

  


“She’s not new, she’s Nile.” And that was that, as far as Booker is concerned. He has only known her a couple of months, but their time at the zoo was enlightening. He realizes now that the attention she pays to his sons is not out of pity, and that she really does want to know them. She is respectful of everyone she meets, but doesn’t allow anyone to speak down to herself or her brother. Plus, she is smart, and challenges him on  _ everything _ from his taste in music to his knowledge of history. No, he doesn’t mind Nile joining them, he is actually looking forward to seeing her without the boys around. 

  


Joe elbows his way back to the table, presenting Nicky with a glass of wine before sliding Booker a beer. Nicky updates him on the situation with Nile, and they settle in to wait for her. They don’t have to wait long at all--fifteen minutes later the door flies open, and the wild-eyed young woman wearing a green and white bomber jacket searches the bar before spotting them in their booth. She points to herself, then the bar, then twirls her finger in a circle-- _ I’m going to the bar, need a round? _ Booker looks at his half-finished drink, shrugs, and gets up to join her, ignoring the chuckle from Joe.

  


“Remind me why I can’t kill my brother.”

  


“Jean-Pierre would cry if you went to jail.”

  


“That  _ would  _ be tragic. Thanks, Book,” she nods seriously, and pats his shoulder before turning to shout her order to the bartender, Tony, if Booker remembers correctly. He makes himself useful by angling his broad shoulders to keep her from being pushed around by the crowd, orders his own beer over her head, and proceeds to be her bodyguard until she is safe in the booth next to the wall.

  


“Why is it you’re wanting to kill Indy now?” Booker asks once they are all settled from their greetings. The groan that resonates from her chest seems to rattle the booth--or maybe that’s her forehead hitting the tabletop.

  


“He made a ‘super study mix’ to help him focus on his portion of a group project, and he said he can’t listen to it at the library because he needs the comfort of home to be in a good headspace. It’s the worst EDM, Techno, cat dancing on a soundboard I’ve ever heard. Thanks for letting me join you, my ears were about to start bleeding.” She sits up and drains a good portion of her cocktail, and Booker pats her shoulder in sympathy. He pretends not to notice the glances that Joe and Nicky share across the table. Friends offer sympathy pats, that’s a thing that people do. Maybe he doesn’t do it often, but he has in the past. And not just when he thought Andy was going to bleed out on a job.

  


The topic somehow turns to the upcoming holiday. Nile is somehow horrified at their Thanksgiving plans--or lack thereof. 

  


“Why would any of us celebrate your country’s colonization? For that matter, why do  _ you  _ celebrate the treatment of the indigenous people of this land?” Joe leans his elbows on the table, excited for a new opponent in his verbal sparring match, and Booker rolls his eyes in tandem with Nicky.

  


“That’s not the  _ point _ of Thanksgiving anymore! Thanksgiving is for Turkey, and Mashed Potatoes, and Momma’s Baked Mac’n’cheese, and betting on the outcome of the dog show with Indy!” Nile jabs her finger into the table under Joe’s nose, punctuating her statements. 

  


“I do not understand your obsession with macaroni and cheese, there are so many better pastas--” Nicky is cut off with a sharp glare.

  


“I am  _ not  _ taking criticism from the person who shares a birthplace with Christopher Colombus.” 

  


_ Oh, she is amazing. _ Booker thinks, mouth hanging open as she backs Nicky into a corner, who honest-to-God  _ snarls _ at her.

  


“Why do you think I took Joe’s name so quickly, we refuse to take responsibility for that--” Even Booker can’t keep up with the slurring, venomous Italian that rains down on the table from the usually level-headed Nicky. Joe turns sad eyes to his husband.

  


“I thought you liked my name…” Booker glances between his friends, and notes the flush from the wine on Nicky’s cheeks, and the slight droop in Joe’s right eye. They’ll be heading home soon. His prediction proves correct, and the four of them head to the bar to settle the tab before making their way to the exit. 

  


The cool air brings more awareness to Booker as they step onto the sidewalk. Nile shudders next to him and tucks her chin into the collar of her jacket. He takes a step closer to her, knowing from past experiences that he tends to give off heat. Nicky and Joe fall into a cab and head home, promising that their debate over Thanksgiving is  _ not over yet, Nile, we’re talking about this tomorrow! _

  


“Do you need a ride home?” He looks down at the young woman next to him as she waves at the idiots that are still yelling through the back windshield of the cab. 

  


“Nah, I walked, I don’t live far. Thanks, though, Book.”

  


“May I walk you home, then? I know you can take care of yourself, but it’s getting late…”

  


She looks up at him through those long, long eyelashes. 

  


“Yeah, you can walk me home.”

  


With a joking bow, he gestures for her to lead the way. She laughs at him, and tucks a hand in his elbow, pulling him in the direction of her home. They make it half a block in easy silence before it all goes to shit.

  


Headlights flash in his eyes, as a car swerves too wide around a corner ahead. They are going too fast to stop, and the brakes scream in the air before there's a deafening, sickening crunch as it slams into the side of a car in the oncoming lane, shoving both up onto the sidewalk opposite them.

  


“Get down!” Nile orders, shoving him down behind a newspaper box, falling into a covering position that he recognises from Andy’s military training. She is shielding him from the street, on one knee, prepared to leap into action. Her eyes are flashing across the scene and her hand is shaking where it is pinning his shoulder to the cool metal of the box behind him, breath shallow and coming faster and faster.

  


_ Fuck, what did that damn counselor tell me about panic attacks? _ He slowly pushes himself up from his half-lying position, carefully moving until he is in front of her. Those large brown eyes aren’t focusing on any one thing. He holds his hands over her shoulders, trying to keep from startling her.

  


“Nile,  _ ma fée _ , can you hear me? Nile, It’s Booker. We are in Washington DC, we just left the pub with Joe and Nicky, and Nicky has the wrong opinions on baked pasta. Nile? Nile? Please look at me,  _ ma chérie _ .” There, did she make eye contact? Her hands aren’t shaking so much. God, he wants to hold her, but what if that makes it worse?

  


“Nile, can you say something? I need you to focus, please, what is something you can touch, right now?” Her hand clamps down on the sleeve of his leather jacket. “That’s good. Good, Nile, tell me about what you’re touching. What does it feel like, what does it look like, what does it smell like?”

  


“Warm, soft, thick… It’s… It’s brown? No, no, it’s black. There’s a zipper, that’s cold, don’t like that.” She moves closer, almost crawling into his lap. “Smells, smells clean, warm, smoke? No, that’s not right, woods. It smells like woods and leather. Safe. Soft, warm… It’s a jacket, black leather with silver zippers. Booker’s jacket… Booker!” She gasps, and locks eyes with him. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry…” She starts crying.

  


“Shhh… Shhh,  _ ma fée _ , don’t cry, you’re safe. It’s OK. Shhh...” She hides her face in his chest, trying to cover the tears, and he takes her into his arms, murmuring nonsense in French until the panic fades. It takes everything in him not to pick her up and carry her to his car, to rush her home where he can make sure that she never feels like this again. But that is not his place. She is a beautiful young woman, and while she has been nothing but kind to him, he knows that she is not for a tired old man like him. She deserves someone who can focus all their energy on her, and he must put his sons first.

  


She comes back to the present slowly, and immediately starts apologizing for her reaction, for crying, for shoving him down. He’s fairly certain she’s going to apologize for breathing next, so he cuts her off.

  


“Do you like gelato?”

  


“Huh?”   
  


“Gelato, there’s a place Nicky loves about two blocks behind us. Do you want to get some?”

  


She blinks up at him but doesn’t say no, so he carefully stands, pulling her to her feet. She is still shivering, and seems reluctant to let go of his jacket, so he shrugs out of it and wraps it around her shoulders. She pushes her hands into the sleeves, and buries her face into the collar, taking a deep breath. He waits while she steadies herself, his eyes never leaving her face.

  


“Gelato sounds nice.”

  


“Is it alright if I walk between you and the street?”

  


“Yes.”

  


“Do you want touch now, or would you prefer space?” Her eyes are watering again,  _ fuck, don’t fuck this up, you idiot _ .

  


“If… If you wouldn’t mind, touch would be nice. But not a lot?”

  


He nods, and places a light hand on her back, spanning her ribcage below her shoulder blades. He can feel her relax as they walk slowly towards the gelato shop, tension draining with each step they take. She lets out a few hiccups as the tears pass, but is quiet otherwise. The fluorescent lights are blinding in the gelato shop, and Nile positions herself a half-step behind him, hiding her tear-stained face. They quickly place their orders at the counter --pecan praline for Booker, and strawberry with fudge sauce for Nile-- before settling in a quiet table near the restrooms. She teases him about his old-man taste in sweets, and he feels something snap into place in his chest. 

  


“Do you want to talk about it?” He keeps his voice soft, trying to avoid alerting the other customers. Nile briefly glances up, then takes a bite of her dessert and stabs the spoon back into the cup. He can’t help but notice how his jacket seems to swallow her whole.

  


“I don’t want to, but… maybe it will help. Did Joe tell you I was in the Marines?” When he shakes his head, she continues, “I was, for almost ten years. My last mission went sideways in a big way. We were tracking this guy, hoping to bring him in alive to get information, and I was the first one in the door. He pulled a gun, and I didn’t even have time to think before I pulled the trigger, two shots center mass. I tried to save him, but it turns out he had a knife on him too.” She pulls aside her shirt collar, and traces a scar that cuts across her left collarbone and up her neck. He can’t look away.

“Dizzy was able to stabilize me enough for MedEvac, and she and Jay stayed with me in the Humvee, but then… IED. I barely remember being sliced up, but I’ll never forget seeing my two best friends being blown apart trying to save me.” She doesn’t break eye contact, and her knuckles are turning white where she is digging her fingernails into her palms. He stretches his hand across the cheap linoleum tabletop, and takes hold of one shaking fist before bringing it to his lips for a brief kiss. 

  


“I’m so sorry you lost them, Nile. And I’m sorry that’s the last memory you have of them. No one deserves to carry that.” He doesn’t bother trying to tell her that this is what they would have wanted, how would he know? Plus, who would choose that death willingly? All he can do is sit quietly, release her hand, and continue to eat his gelato--no matter that it now tastes like ashes. 

  


“Tell me about Thanksgiving?” h

He startles her with his abrupt change in subject, but her face lights up as she describes the traditions she grew up with, even with moving from base to base with a military family. Thanksgiving for her was something to tie their family to home no matter where they were. Even when she was deployed, she knew that back in Chicago her mother and brother were watching the Parade, and Indy was stuck doing the dishes because there was no way their mother was letting him burn down the kitchen trying to cook. 

  


She asks how he and the boys spend the day, and he shares that they are mostly excited that there is no school for a week, and that he tries to make a more elaborate meal than usual, but the big turkey dinner hasn’t ever happened before. This year, the boys are more excited about the Showcase that Renaissance Martial Arts is having on Wednesday, giving each class a chance to demonstrate what they have learned to their extended family before the holidays load everyone down in carbs. Nile tells him that her mother is coming down for the Showcase and Thanksgiving, and she’s excited to show off how she is doing without the military as a framework.

  


“I feel like I’ve got a place where I can be  _ me _ , you know?” The soft smile she shoots his way is filled with peace, and an idea begins to take shape in his mind. The gelato is finished, and this time the walk home is event free. He turns his half-baked plan over and over in his mind as he drives home, hopefully by the time he gets there he will have a decent proposal for Andy. It’s not until he parks his car in the garage that he notices that Nile never gave him back his jacket.

  


******

Once Andy agrees to his plan, Booker allows Joe to issue the Challenge--er--Invitation. A Big Family Dinner, at Andy and Quyhn’s place since it has a formal dining room, a kitchen big enough for a catering company, and no children’s toys cluttering up the sitting area. Each household will bring their favorite side dish and dessert, with Andy and Quyhn providing the turkey and Mrs. Freeman providing instructions on how to prepare it properly. Nicky laughs as he tells Booker about Nile confirming six separate times throughout the day that it was OK to invade someone else’s house like this, and that she didn’t find it amusing when Joe responded that it’s “in keeping with the spirit of the holiday.”

  


The rest of the week passes quickly, and the next thing he knows, Booker is loading his boys in the car and confirming the gym’s address with Andy as they head to the Showcase. Jean-Pierre keeps fidgeting with his uniform, tying and untying the white belt at his waist, and Philippe is quieter, but Booker can hear him softly discussing some of the harder forms with his brother, and reminding him that the other kids have family coming too, so they need to share Joe and Nile’s attention. 

  


When they pull into the parking lot, Booker spies Andy’s lean form lounging against the wall near the entrance to the gym, Quynh standing next to her scrolling through her phone. All of Philippe’s quiet reminders of patience evaporate from Jean-Pierre’s mind, Booker can almost see the switch flip positions from “calm” to “FULL SPEED” like an old fashioned cartoon. Luckily, Andy is always as happy to see her nephews as they are to see her. They enter the gym as a unit, and it is packed with families, students of all ages in different colored uniforms denoting their level of proficiency milling around, groups settling in on the small collapsible bleachers and folding chairs surrounding the practice mats, with Joe, Nicky and Nile doing their best to act as ringmasters to this crazy three ringed circus that they created.

  


Joe finally manages to get the attention of his students, and directs them to take places along the back wall, divided by class, and Philippe and Jean-Pierre scurry across the room to join their friends. Philippe is hugged by Misty, red curls bouncing in their customary pig-tails, and Jean-Pierre high-fives everyone in his group. Booker spots Indy standing against one of the far walls with a woman who must be Mrs. Freeman, they are smiling at each other with the same wide grin, but she has Nile’s ski-slope nose and her hair is styled in long locs that she has artfully twisted atop her head. He can  _ feel _ Andy analyzing every person in the gym, starting and ending with Nile. He hopes she passes inspection. 

  


The demonstrations go as planned, the young children are trying so hard to focus on Nile that they frequently forget their moves. One or two freeze up completely when faced with the undivided attention of so many adults, but there are no tears, so Booker feels that it is overall a success. Philippe's class with Joe involves some mock-sparring to show off their blocks and strikes, and Misty is once again glued to his side. There are no meltdowns in the beginner class either, Andy and Quynh both cheer loudly for his quiet son, and he can see the pleased flush to Philippe's ears from across the room. Booker allows himself to tune out as the more advanced students perform, and resolutely doesn't watch Nile's every move. Then, at the very end, Joe unveils his surprise.

  


"And now, to show how effective these moves can be against someone bigger and stronger than you, our newest instructor, Ms. Nile Freeman has agreed to get into the ring with me! We are going to treat this as a one-round MMA match, gloves, mouth guards, but no other protective equipment. One 3-minute round to show as many different moves as we can. Please bear with us as we get our gloves on, and feel free to gather around the ring," he gestures broadly to the boxing ring at the far side of the space. The students return to their families while their instructors prepare for the impromptu match.

  


Andy raises an eyebrow as she watches Indy quickly tape Nile’s hands and help her into the lightweight MMA gloves. This quickly becomes two eyebrows climbing to her hairline when Nile shrugs out of the Renaissance Gym jacket to reveal a black sports bra. Jean-Pierre tugs on Booker’s sleeve, "Papa, is Miss Nile hurt?"

  


The scarring on her left arm is extensive, the worst of it centered on her bicep, and the twisting scars radiate down to mid forearm. He scoops Jean-Pierre into his arms, and feels Philippe press closer.

  


"She was hurt,  _ mes fils,  _ but she is better now. The scars mean that she has healed and is stronger."

  


"Did she have someone to kiss it better?" His little boy's earnest, sweet question should not wreak such havoc in his mind. _Kiss_ _it better_ … He imagines pressing his lips against the burned skin, proving to both of them that she survived, tracing the long scar left by the knife with his tongue to remove any memory of pain. _Fuck, SHE IS NOT FOR YOU_. Booker takes a calming breath and ignores the heat he feels crawling up his neck and across his cheeks.

  


"I'm sure she did,  _ petit monstre _ , see, her  _ maman _ is helping her now." Does his voice sound off? No. He is just worried over showing weaknesses in front of Andy, who is worse than a shark when she scents blood in the water.

  


The group is saved when Joe and Nile climb into the ring. Nile is outclassed in height, weight, and reach, and this fight would never be considered fair, however it is easy to see the excitement brimming between boss and employee as they touch gloves in the center of the ring, with Nicky acting as referee/timekeeper. As soon as Nicky steps out of the line of fire, the combatants explode into motion. 

  


Joe is the aggressor, stepping into Nile's strike zone and attempting to get her in a hold. Nile slips under his arm, twists and delivers a strong blow between his shoulders, knocking him to the mat. He twists to bring her down, locking his legs around her waist, and she hits the mat  _ hard _ before working to disentangle herself. Joe is putting his long limbs to good use, but Nile is like mercury flowing around him. At the end of the 3 minutes, they are twisted into such a complicated knot that Booker isn't sure who the winner would have been in a real match. He watches as they break apart, laughing and waving to their audience who are applauding wildly.

  


Nile locks eyes with him as he holds a cheering Jean-Pierre, and her smile brightens. She waves and then ducks through the ropes to join her family.

  


"Oh, little brother," Andy murmurs in Russian next to him, "you are so fucked."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As Always, thanks to @yogurtfordinner for the beta work!!
> 
> Panic Attack: Booker and Nile are near a car accident which triggers a flashback. Booker works to bring Nile back to present using grounding techniques, then takes her to get Gelato afterwards. while they are eating, Nile talks about her time in the Marines, and Discloses that she was injured in an IED explosion that killed Dizzy and Jay.
> 
> You can skip this section if you stop reading at "They made it Half a block before it all went to shit" and pick back up Austell me about Thanksgiving "


	5. Melting Pot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Big Family Dinner time! A multicultural Thanksgiving

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a couple things that I want to say at the end, but for now I will stick with the most important, thank you once again @yogurtfordinner for the beta work!
> 
> Also, I TOTALLY Forgot to mention this earlier, but my internal casting for Indus is Season 1 Leverage Aldis Hodge---basically what if Hardison went into archaeology.
> 
> Also, the last portion of this chapter is pure self-indulgence regarding my love for forcing my family to watch the National Dog Show on Thanksgiving rather than being sucked into football (the guys usually watch in another room). I get irrationally pissed when the Australian Shepherds never move past the Herding Group, but that's because my family has seven and they are The Best Dogs.

The morning after the Showcase is filled with chaos. Nile oversleeps, and is woken by her mother ripping the blankets off of her. Indy takes  _ forever  _ in the shower, which makes Nile have to rush through her makeup, and settle for weaving her box braids into a partial rope braid to keep the strands out of her face. She is wearing a forest green fitted sweater and black skinny jeans with ankle boots, and she grabs the large black leather jacket that has been in her room for the past week as she rushes to help load the car. 

Indy plugs the address to the Scythians’ home into his phone, and leaves distracting Nile to their mom as he backs the car out of their apartment's tiny parking area. Mama asks her for another rundown of all who will be at the dinner, and gushes over how polite Joe and Nicky are, and how well the Showcase went, and how she can't wait to meet these students of hers. Nile kicks the back of Indy's seat when he snorts at the last point. She is able to keep her mind busy for most of the ride, and tries to ignore how many times she tucks her nose into the collar of the leather jacket.

When they pull up in front of Booker’s boss' home, she's absolutely sure that they have the wrong address. It looks like a magazine photo of Autumn in the City, a townhouse in a part of DC that Nile couldn't dream of affording. She takes a deep breath, and decides that possibly embarrassing herself in front of her bosses and their friends is better than getting back in the car right now. Squaring her shoulders, she knocks on the front door, feeling her mother and brother flanking her, all of them holding loaded bakeware.

To her surprise, Nicky is the one who opens the door, greeting them warmly and wearing a dark grey button down shirt with black slacks. He takes the casserole dish that she is carrying, and directs her to the living room. 

“The boys are in there, and have been eagerly awaiting you all morning,  _ sorellina _ , I will introduce your guests to the hostesses,” he kisses her cheek before greeting her family, “please, come with me,  _ Signora  _ Freeman, Indus, and thank you for showing us a true American Thanksgiving. I believe I followed your instructions on the turkey…” his voice trails off as he leads them to the kitchen.

Nile makes her way through the house, pulling the jacket tighter around her body for a brief moment of comfort. She can hear the parade broadcast coming from the TV, as well as the fast stream of French that the boys usually slip into when they are speaking with each other. Booker’s rough voice responds to a question, and Joe's laugh bursts over the music of a marching band's performance. She peeks around the corner, and sees the four of them sitting on the floor around a large coffee table with crayons, pens, and paper scattered around. Jean-Pierre is frowning as he tries to get his father’s hand to fit on the piece of paper, and it is clear that Booker is being intentionally difficult about it behind his son’s back, tossing a wink to Joe with every frustrated “ _ Papa!”  _ the boy lets out.

“It will not fit,  _ petit monstre _ , I will help you with your turkey instead, no?” He throws a crayon at Joe’s head when his friend murmurs something in Arabic under his breath and the crayon tangles in his curls. Booker glares at him when this just makes Joe laugh harder at his own joke. 

“ _ Non! _ We all need hand turkeys!” Jean-Pierre seems close to tears at this point, so Nile decides to step in.

“Hand turkeys? Are you drawing without me, little goblin?” the shrieks of excitement that the boys let loose push her back a step--or maybe that’s their solid bodies colliding with her waist. 

“Papa’s hand is too big for the paper. Make it fit, Miss Nile?”

She kneels down next to Booker and sees that while his hand did fit on the paper, if he spread his fingers out, the thumb and pinky would be cut off. Without thinking, she grabs his wrist, and rotates the paper so that it is landscape, fanning his fingers out to the approximate shape of a turkey with its tail feathers displayed. She snatches a pen from the center of the table, and quickly outlines his broad palm, and strong, sturdy fingers before she releases her grip on the cuff of his fisherman’s sweater. 

“There, now your Papa’s turkey will be sitting, with yours standing around him. Indy had to learn that trick pretty early on, his fingers are so long.” She shares a conspiratorial wink with Jean-Pierre, who scrunches his nose and blinks firmly back at her. 

“Will you draw with us, Miss Nile?” Philippe’s voice is soft as he glances up from where he has been steadily adding grass under his turkey’s feet.

“Of course, Sir Philippe! I would be honored to add my turkey to the farmyard.” She reaches across the table to the stack of printer-paper, and sets to tracing her left hand.

“Are you cold, Nile? I’m sure we can adjust the thermostat.” Joe’s eyes are dancing with laughter, even if he manages to sound concerned.  _ The jacket. Shit.  _

“Oh! No… no, I’m fine, I just,” she shrugs out of the comforting shell of leather, and hands it over to Booker, “I forgot to give this back to you after you walked me home, and then I didn’t get a chance to talk to you yesterday, I had no idea so many parents would want to talk to me! I’m sorry I stole it from you.”

Booker carefully takes the jacket from her and places it in the armchair behind him, then waves off her apology, “it was better serving its purpose with you than with me. Andy has forbidden me from wearing it to the office, insists that it is unprofessional.” With that, they return to their drawings, and Nile pretends that the chill she feels is due to the fall weather outside. 

Only a few moments later Indy makes his way into the room, pouting about being kicked out of the kitchen. Nile reminds him that he is a walking fire hazard, which sparks a truly childish display of airing dirty laundry and revealing long buried secrets (Nile had only tried to microwave the baked potato in the aluminum foil one time, and she was  _ six, _ how was she supposed to know better?) before he realizes what they are doing and cheerfully joins them on the floor, folding his long body to fit between the Le Livre boys. They take occasional breaks from their drawings to watch a particular performance from the parade, and everyone cheers when Santa makes his appearance at the end of the parade.

During the commercial break, the adults stand and stretch their limbs from their cramped position on the floor while the boys rush to the kitchen in search of snacks. Nicky ushers them back to the living room with a tray of bruschetta, olives, and mixed nuts. He gestures for Joe to go help the ladies in the kitchen and bring out the other appetizers, explaining that there are still a couple of hours until the turkey will be done. Indy and Nile begin wagering on which dog will win each group in the National Dog Show that starts after the parade, and soon the whole group is in on it. Mama rolls her eyes at her children, and sits on the couch where she is quickly greeted by Jean-Pierre, who has never met a stranger, and  _ loves _ the necklace she is wearing since it is so long and colorful. Philippe calls her  _ Madame _ , and asks about her rings and which dog she wants to win, then quickly decides that he is also going to cheer for the Pekinese. Booker praises Nile’s skills with his sons, and addresses her as  _ Madame  _ Freeman, but she insists he calls her Dawn.

Nile is introduced to Andy and Quynh, who match their home in terms of elegance. Andy praises her for yesterday’s bout with Joe, and explains her own experience with boxing and the military. Quynh has latched on to Dawn and they are bemoaning the state of current fashion, wishing that the elegance of the ‘40s and ‘50s would return (the side-eye to Nicky’s rumpled shirt and Indy’s bright graphic tee under his cardigan go unnoticed by the recipients). 

By the time the Best In Show category comes around, Nile has her second glass of red wine in hand, courtesy of Booker who is sitting next to her with their backs to the couch. Indy is dramatically wailing that the show is rigged, since his choice of Papillion did not win the Toy Group, and has abandoned the adults to play legos with the boys. They are building a truly amazing fort, and Philippe is only bragging a little bit about how the Pekinese beat the Papillion. Mama has taken Nile’s half-hearted braid down while they watch, and has been steadily twisting it into a much more sophisticated crown around her head, as she and Joe discuss the difficulty of having thick, textured hair. Nicky has abandoned them for the kitchen--and no, he isn’t pouting about the fact that the Pharaoh Hound got beaten by Joe’s choice of the Ibizan Hound--to check on the Turkey for the last time and begin moving dishes around. Quynh orders Andy to go help him, as she wants their large chair to herself in front of the fireplace. Plus, she just _ knows _ that the Standard Poodle is going to win, so she has to be there to celebrate. Andy calls back that they are going to revisit the idea of getting a Borzoi later. 

“Quynh’s wrong, you know?” Whispers Booker next to her, “the Dogue de Bordeaux, that one’s a champion. Just look at his eyes.”

“Hmmm… I think you just want something that comes off as grumpy but is a softie on the inside to win. I’m sure that means nothing. I have a good feeling about the Malinois though. Worked with them a lot in the Marines, they are smart, loyal dogs. I’m just glad it beat the German Shepherd to win the Group.” She can't tell who shifts closer, but they are pressed together from shoulder to hip. If she doesn’t get more food inside her before she finishes this glass of wine she’s going to end up using him as a pillow. He looks so soft with that sweater and his hair falling into his eyes. 

In a stunning upset, the Kelley Blue Terrier wins, causing a chorus of groans and curses in multiple languages. Booker dramatically slumps to the floor, prompting his sons to pile on top of him giggling until Nicky and Andy call that dinner is served. With excessive help from the boys, Booker is pulled from the floor, Nile sets her wineglass on the table and assists her mother up from the couch, and they all head into the formal dining area. 

The table is groaning with dishes from the Mediterranian, the French countryside, Vietnam, American soul food, and decadent desserts. Everyone settles in, and Mama asks if she can bless the food. After a brief silence, Nile quietly thanks the universe and whoever else is listening that she made it to this moment, surrounded by family, friends, and love. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience in waiting for this chapter, work was super stressful this week, so I wasn't feeling as good about my writing as I was for the earlier chapters (which is why it is a little shorter as well)
> 
> Thanks again for reading!


	6. Christmas Celebration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Slight change in format, let's see how the whole group celebrates the winter holiday season, Shall we?  
> Nile and Mama Freeman have a heart-to-heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much once again to @Yogurtfordinner for the beta work, and a SPECIAL thank you to @Sphinx81 for helping me find Mama Freeman's Voice.

When Nicky shakes Joe awake at 11 PM he feels a twinge of guilt as he does every year.

“ _ Coure mio,  _ I need to leave soon, are you sure you want to come?” Joe scrunches up his face in protest of the low light in their bedroom, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes from his brief nap. He pulls Nicky into a kiss, then stands to dress quickly in the clothes he had laid out before laying down. 

“Of course,  _ hayati _ , I would never miss this. Stop worrying, Nicoló, Mass is a wonder to witness, even if I do not share the faith. How would you feel if I apologized for waking you when I leave the bed for  _ fajr _ ?” He catches Nicky’s eye in the mirror, and grins as his husband glares at him. Nicky is sure to wrap Joe’s scarf a little tighter than normal for his smart mouth. 

They arrive at the church well before Midnight Mass, shaking melting snowflakes off their hair before crossing the threshold. Joe knows that Nicky is not always looked at kindly in this congregation, but his love is strong, and very used to ignoring the ignorant comments of those around him. He always makes sure to hold his hand tighter when he notices the older men and women in the crowd sniff and move away from them. Nicky doesn’t attend Mass often anymore, but he has admitted that he feels his mother will descend upon him as a vengeful angel if he misses Christmas Mass. Joe is more than happy to attend with him, as the chapel is beautiful, and he loves to listen to Nicky answer the call-and-response in Latin. 

Joe closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and listens to the voice of his beloved as a hymn begins and echoes through the rafters. He may not celebrate Christmas, but he will celebrate his husband at every opportunity. He feels blessed to know that Nicky feels the same.

**************

Booker is rudely awakened by the juggernaut that is a six-year-old who has discovered that Santa did indeed visit while he was sleeping. He loves his sons, really, but the assembly on the two bicycles that are the cause of such joy right now kept him awake until roughly two hours ago, and he doesn’t feel  _ human _ let alone  _ jolly _ . 

“PAPA!!!! LOOK, PÈRE NOËL CAME!!!” Jean-Pierre shrieks as he hops onto the smaller, green bicycle, tripping out of his bear-shaped slippers in the process.  _ Mon dieu, who turned his volume up to 11? _ Booker wonders, shuffling to the coffee maker, and hoping that his face is showing an emotion that is in the neighborhood of pleasant. Philippe leans against him for a hug, and whispers “thank you, Papa, it’s a pretty bike,” and Booker places a kiss on his forehead, pouring a mug of coffee before the carafe is full so that he can enjoy the morning with his sons.

He settles into the armchair in front of the electric fireplace, taking a large swig of the scalding coffee before running interference between Jean-Pierre’s enthusiasm and the brightly wrapped packages under the tree.

“Wait, wait, wait,  _ monstre _ , I promised  _ tes oncles et tantes _ I would send videos of you opening your gifts. Let’s sort them quickly, hmm?”

It takes a couple of minutes to move the gifts into three distinct piles, and Philippe carefully reads the names to make sure that he knows who sent what before he opens them.

“Papa, Miss Nile sent me something!” he gasps, holding a large, flat package. This is news to Booker, until he remembers using Joe as a deliveryman for his own gift to Nile. Earlier in the week Joe sent him a text saying that he was in the neighborhood and was going to stash the gifts from himself and Nicky under the tree so Booker didn’t have to try to keep the boys from ripping into them on the way home from their class one night. He must have brought the gifts from Nile then too--sneaky bastard.

“Do you want to start with her present then? Jean-Pierre, find the one with Miss Nile’s name on it, and we will send her a video too, OK?”

He pulls out his phone, opening his camera quickly so he is able to capture the carnage of the boys tearing into the carefully wrapped boxes. They lift the lids at the same time, and excited squeals rend the air.

" _ Papa, je suis un monstre!!!"  _ Jean-Pierre cries, cackling loudly as he displays the framed picture that shows his face framed by horns, looking like something that crawled from Where the Wild Things Are. His monster-self is holding one fist full of candy and the other of gold coins, and bright colors make up the background.  _ Jean-Pierre, Candy Goblin  _ is scrawled in a childish script across his chest.

Philippe is staring open-mouthed at his own picture, eyes darting from one part to another.

"What is it,  _ mon fils? _ Are you a monster too?"

_ "Non... non, je suis un chevalier." _ He carefully turns the picture around, showing his likeness seated on a rocky hill, helmet at his feet, sword sheathed at his side, shield against his leg. He is wearing black and silver like his Halloween costume, but the shield has a broken sword and dove painted on it in white.  _ Sir Philippe the Peaceful  _ is written in a scroll arching over his head, with the background in a pastel wash of blues and greens.

"Those are some nice pictures, what do you say, boys?"

" _ Merci _ , Miss Nile!" they both call, waving to the camera. Booker quickly directs the rest of their gift opening so their family will be able to see the joy that is a child's Christmas, then sends the videos to their intended recipients. Glancing at the clock, he realizes that it is just past 7 in the morning, and refuses to feel guilty for possibly waking his friends. It’s all part of the experience. 

Nile sends a reply as he’s fixing breakfast, the boys happily playing with the pile of toys in the living room.

**Nile:** _ Yay! I’m glad they like them, it’s been a while since I’ve drawn anything :) _

He stares at his phone in shock.

**Me:** _ You made these? They are beautiful. _

**Nile:** _ Thanks, I had Joe help me on some of the color choices and finding decent frames. _

**Nile:** _ Did you open your present yet? _

**Me:** _ Non, not yet, downside of being a dad, you wait until the children are asleep to enjoy your own gifts. _

**Nile:** _ Well, I’ll save yours for later then too, we can open them together. _

He smiles to himself before calling the boys to the table for their waffles. It snowed last night, maybe he can take them outside and exhaust them earlier than usual so that he can get to the gift with “ _ Monsieur Booker” _ written on it.

********

The phone. Won’t. Stop. Chiming. Andy is going to throw it into the hot tub on their veranda if Quynh doesn’t silence it soon. After a moment, she hears her wife chuckle softly, and groans when she realizes that they aren't going to go back to sleep anytime soon.

“What is it?  _ Jesus _ , how much did we drink last night?” She growls into the pillow, shifting her head slightly so she can crack open one eye at her wife.

Quynh is propped against the headboard, their thick comforter pooling at her waist, as she smiles softly at her phone.

“ _ You  _ drank two bottles of wine. It was impressive. Please never do it again,” she says, and presses a kiss to Andy’s temple. “The boys love their presents. Booker, not so much.”

She turns the phone to show a video of two thrilled little boys shooting at each other with Nerf guns, the suction cups on the ammo sticking to random pieces of furniture and walls. The camera rotates, and Booker’s exhausted face with a distinct red mark on his forehead glares into the lens. “This means war, Andromache,” he grumbles, not fully able to suppress his smirk.

“Glad to see they are putting them to good use. Now. Silence your phone and let’s go back to sleep until the sun is up.”

“Awww… I thought you wanted to go snowboarding this morning? I distinctly remember you yelling you could take anyone on the slopes and no hangover could touch you…”

“Drunk me is a bitch and you know it. Snuggles. Now.”

“Fine, but we are going skiing when you can stand up. There is a little punk who I want to show a thing or two. Just because he grew up in Colorado does not make him God’s gift to winter sports.”

“That’s my girl.”

They continue to ignore the snow falling outside their windows, turning the Rocky Mountains into the postcard version of itself.

******

There’s nothing like Christmas in Chicago. She and Indy flew up together three days ago, and she’s been catching up with her friends from high school, Church members and other kids her age from the block who are back for the holidays. Last night she and her friends Jazz and Michelle went to a club and stumbled home tipsy and singing TLC at the top of their lungs. Jazz fell into a snowdrift and Nile and Michelle were laughing too hard to pull her out at first. The dirty look she got from Mama when she tried sneaking in at 2 AM had made her feel sixteen again. 

Thank GOD Indy has gotten over waking up before dawn to see what presents were waiting for them. They both stumble down the stairs to the tiny living room to find their mother arching her eyebrow at them over a cup of coffee. Nile perks up and rushes to the kitchen to find the coffee pot empty and unplugged, and hears her mother laughing at her from the other room.

Once everyone is caffeinated, they begin opening their gifts. Nile had found her mother a beautiful headscarf that was made in DC, with proceeds of the sale going to a local at-risk youth group. She found Indy a couple of mint condition vintage comics that he had been hinting about all year. Indy got her a new set of cool-weather workout gear and a T-shirt that says “Training to join the Dora Milaje.” He somehow managed to find their mother an autographed copy of “The Parable of the Sower” that causes Nile to throw a couch cushion at his head. Mama gifted them both new scarves and a large afghan to share on the couch, as well as the latest gossip from her knitting group.

After lunch, Nile and Indy rush outside to have the traditional block snowball fight. During a break, she re-watches the clip Booker sent of the boys and studiously ignores the tightness in her chest. It’s just the cold. That’s all. Hours later, Indy and his friends bail to go play video games --seriously, for someone about to be legally able to drink he sure does act 13-- and she heads back inside. The sun begins to set, and she and Mama eat some of the stew that has been cooking in the crockpot all day. They then settle on the couch, and pull up the cheesiest of Christmas Hallmark movies. Halfway through the second movie, she checks her phone again. Mama chuckles beside her.

“What’s the matter, baby? He not texting you back fast enough?” 

“What? What do you mean, Mama?” Shit, was she that transparent? Booker said that he would be able to open her present after the boys went to bed, and DC was ahead of Chicago’s time zone.

“That sweet man from Thanksgiving. I saw you earlier, watching that video of the little boys. Nice little family. I just want to make sure you know what you’re getting into. You’ve got such a big heart, sweetie.” Mama then mutes the TV and turns to face her. “He’s older than you. And those boys, those boys are always going to come first. And they should. But… There’s a reason I never dated after your daddy passed. I couldn’t imagine someone else standing in his place in your life. How well do you really know him?”

“It’s not like that, Mama, we’re just friends, I swear.”

“For now. But, you can’t tell me you haven't thought about it. I’m not telling you not to go for it, I just want you to really consider what you’re getting yourself into. This country has made progress. But you need to make sure he will protect you against those who want the country to go backwards. Can he do that while also raising his kids and being there for them too?"

Nile feels her chest tighten again, and tears sting the back of her eyes. “It… It’s not like that, and even if it was… They would be worth it. All of them.”

"It may feel like that, and they  _ may be _ worth it, but you can't forget your worth, too. He has to show you that he sees your value, and that it is just as precious to him as those boys, even if it's in a different way."

Her mother pulls her close, and she allows herself to break. She lets all her fears and worries pour out of her eyes. She doesn’t fight the tears, and as they ease off Mama turns the sound on the TV back on. They finish the movie and head to bed, hugging each other tightly, and Mama kisses her forehead.

She plugs her phone in, and picks up the present that she hasn’t even pulled out of her bag before now. She is tracing the pattern of cartoon penguins and polar bears when her phone buzzes on the nightstand.

**Booker:** _ I think someone laced the snow with cocaine. The monsters only just went to sleep. _

**Me:** _How are you holding up? Did you catch a high too?_

**Booker:** _No, just several snowballs to the face. Did you open your gift yet?_

**Me:** _Not yet… I said we’d open them together, remember?_

**Booker:** _So how should we do this?_

Nile thinks for a second, and pulls on a hoodie to disguise her hair wrap before calling him via FaceTime. It rings for a couple of seconds before he answers, hair disheveled, cheeks and nose rosy from the cold.

“Merry Christmas, Book,” she says.

“ _ Joyeux Noël, ma fée. _ Did you have a good day?” His eyes crinkle when he smiles.

“I did! Had a snowball fight with some of the kids in the neighborhood, built a snowman. All that good stuff. Seems like the boys had a good day too?”

“Hmph, they are spoiled. Your drawings were amazing, and were the favorites until they opened the nerf guns from Andy. I’m going to kill her. Slowly.” He growls glaring off camera at what she imagines are the offending guns.

“Ready to open your present?”

“ _ Oui _ , are you?”

She grins and holds up the gift, then moves to prop her phone up so that he can see her open it, and he is doing the same back in DC. They count down from three together, and tear into the paper simultaneously.

When Nile sees the cover of the book he has given her, she starts laughing, hearing his own rumbling over the phone’s tiny speaker. She’s holding a copy of  _ Muse and Drudge _ by Harryette Mullen, and he is holding  _ Sleeping with the Dictionary _ by the same author.

“You said you wanted to explore poetry!” Booker grins at her accusingly.

“ _ You _ said you wanted to read more diverse authors!” She fires back. They lose themselves in laughter again, both expressing their excitement and promising to have read at least one of the works to analyze together when she returns. 

She falls asleep with her hand on the book and a smile on her face. She dreams of her father laughing with her mother as they dance around the kitchen, and as she watches a strong pair of arms wrap around her, swaying to the beat of music she can't hear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed this! Let me know what you thought of the shifting POV in the comments if you feel like it.  
> If it wasn't terrible there may be a few chapters later on that I throw an outsider's look in.


	7. Royal Birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Indy needs some help with an Internship, and someone turns 10!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was not intended to be an advertisement for Medieval Times, but hey, if they want to throw me some tickets I'd be fine with that! LOL
> 
> All the Thanks to the wonderful Isa, @yogurtfordinner, and to @nevermindirah for help with DC Geography!

There is something odd about the new year, the relief that the holidays are done paired with the dread of returning to work. Booker is spending more time than he originally planned on the Old Guard project, but the extra hours will be worth it when they finally track down the leader of the human trafficking ring. He is also concerned about Philippe's upcoming birthday, unsure of what he should do to make the day special for his quiet son. 

He is startled out of his research when his phone vibrates off the edge of his desk. He lunges for it and smacks his forehead on the desk, cursing as he comes back to his seat. 

**Unknown Number:** hey man--i grabbed your number off joe, hope you dont mind

**Unknown Number:** shit, this is indy, nile’s brother.

**Unknown Number:** i asked joe for help, but he said you might be the better option

Worried, Booker thumbs his phone open and hits the call button.

“Hello?”

“Indus, is everything OK?”

“Yeah, man, I’m good… shit I forget how  _ old  _ you are sometimes,” he hears the younger man chuckle, “nah, I just need some pointers about an internship opportunity I’m applying for, and Joe said that you’re pretty good at looking over documents and might be willing to help out?”

Booker feels muscles he didn’t even realize he  _ had  _ relax as he realizes that there isn’t anything wrong with Nile. He pulls up his calendar on his computer and starts searching for an open block of time.

“Of course, what is the internship? Do you want me to just look things over or do you want to grab lunch tomorrow? We can practice some questions then.”

“Lunch would be great! What time, and where do you want to meet up?”

“Just come by the office, I’ll order us something. I’m free from 11 to 1, so anytime in there is good.”

“You won’t get in trouble for a long lunch?”

“I’ve been working on a project from home after the boys go to bed for the past two weeks, Andy owes me a couple hours here and there. Don’t worry about me. Let me know if you have any specific requests for lunch, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

They hang up, and Booker saves the new number in his phone before sending the office address and instructions on how to call up from the security desk. He also includes his email and asks him to send the details of the internship over so that he will know what they are looking for in an applicant. He thinks briefly about texting Nile about the impromptu mentoring session before deciding against it. Indy asked him for help, not his sister. He is honored that Indy trusts him with part of his future.

********

Security calls him at ten minutes to 11, and he tells them to let Indy through. He wraps up a couple of brief tasks in the time it takes the elevator go get up to Scythian’s floor, and goes to meet his guest at the elevator bay. Indy steps out wide-eyed as Booker reaches forward to shake his hand.

“Damn, man, this place is  _ nice _ ,” he says as they walk to Booker’s office. “What exactly do you do again?”   
  


“Personal security, and some private investigation work. We are also very good at investments.” He knows that his shark-smile is on, but he feels that Indy needs to know  _ who  _ he is asking for help. Lunch has already been delivered, a few massive burritos from a hole-in-the-wall place down the block. The internship proposal is fairly straightforward, a summer position in Romania assisting a professor in classifying some new finds. Indy is obviously trying to downplay his excitement at the potential to work with vampire graves --in the process he explains that there is still a portion of the population that believes in vampires and describes the burial rites that are used to protect the living-- and has done his research on the area as well as the professor. He just has  _ no idea _ on how to put it all together.

They spend a solid hour reviewing the documents, and practicing potential interview questions through mouthfuls of meat, cheese, and rice. Somehow they get onto the topic of the New Year celebrations, and Indy shows Booker a photo he had taken of himself and Nile at midnight. She is glowing, gold glitter highlighting her cheekbones, a purple glitter headband with “Happy New Year” in bubble script, eyes bright, and mouth wide in a celebratory cheer. Indy is squeezing close to her in the selfie, with a little glitter transfer and a plastic top hat knocked askew as he sticks his tongue out at the camera. Booker laughs, and asks him to send it over so he can update Nile’s contact photo. Booker shows Indy the picture he set as his background of the boys with the art Nile drew for them.

“I’m at a loss, Philippe is turning 10 at the end of the month, and I don’t know what to do for his birthday. I know Joe is planning on having cupcakes for the class, but I want to do something extra special, you know?”

“Wow, 10’s a big deal man, double digits! What about having a sleepover or something?”

“He doesn’t have many friends, he really only spends time with Misty, and I don’t know that a co-ed slumber party would be appropriate…”

“Yeah, I get that.” Indy looks thoughtfully at the picture still displayed on Booker’s screen. “Hey, what about Medieval Times? Outside of Baltimore?”

“What’s that?” Booker furrows his brow and wakes his computer up to pull up a web browser.

“It’s like a dinner and show thing. Knights and jousting, horses and sword fights. I think you can have like, a knighting ceremony even. Plus, there’s a full bar. Lots of cheering and excitement, totally ridiculous, but he likes knights, right? Maybe he would have a good time.” Indy shrugs, and they look at the website together. It could be cheesy, and was definitely pricey, but… Philippe never asks for much, and he deserves to have an exciting birthday.

“Hmmm… maybe he would like to invite Misty too, that way it’s not just the three of us. I’ll ask her mom at class Friday. Thanks for the idea, Indy. I’ll look into it.”

“No problem, he’s a fun kid. Quiet, but fun.”

They pull themselves back on track, and when Booker discovers that Indy doesn’t have a suit for the interview he glares at the upcoming consultation meeting on his calendar.

“Do you have class this afternoon?”

“Nope, got a paper due next week that I need to work on, but I’m planning on just slamming about three 5 Hour Energys and starting on it after dinner, why?”

Booker doesn’t answer as he picks the office phone up and dials the extension he needs.

“Quynh? I have a project for you. You’ll love it.” The rest of his lunch meeting with Indy is spent arguing that he is going to pay for the young man’s first suit, and Quynh will stay within a reasonable budget without letting Indy in on how much that is. He was done growing, and a well made, classic suit would last him for a few years. When Indy threatens to tell Nile that Booker is spending money on him, Booker retaliates with the knowledge that Indy hadn’t asked his sister for assistance with the internship. With the understanding of Mutually Assured Destruction, they agree to call it a wash. 

Quynh whisks Indy out of the building, and Booker decides that he would much rather deal with his conference call than be anywhere near that woman on a shopping mission.

********

Philippe yells in excitement when Booker tells him about a place that has  _ real live knights _ , and begs to take Misty with them before Booker gets a chance to make the offer. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen the boy this excited, and watches as his oldest runs down the hallway to change for his martial arts class and also double checks that his Halloween Costume wasn’t damaged by trick-or-treating a few months ago. Jean-Pierre says he still thinks Knights aren’t as cool as Pirates, and asks if he can wear his costume too. Booker reminds both of them that there are still a few weeks until Philippe’s birthday, so they don’t have to decide on costumes immediately.

When they get to Renaissance MMA he sends the boys to join their groups, and manages to speak to Misty’s mother, Christina, before she heads out to do the errands that she needs to complete before taking Misty home. She says that she doesn’t have a problem with Misty going to Baltimore, even if it might be a little bit of a late night since it’s on a weekend, but she won’t be able to go since she is on call with the hospital that weekend.

Booker reassures her that he can handle three children, and pointedly ignores Nicky’s snort of amusement behind him. Christina grins, and says that she’ll text him later so that they can go over the details, before she rushes out the door. 

“Details of what? You got a hot date, Booker?” He spins so quickly he almost falls over when he hears Nile’s voice behind him.

“ _ Non! _ No, no, no, I’m planning on taking Philippe to Medieval Times for his birthday, and wanted to see if Misty could join. That’s all.”

“He also thinks that he can handle three children on an adrenaline high in Baltimore by himself,” Nicky throws in from his station where he is working on some billing for the gym. 

“Oh, Book, no… Misty will eat you alive. When are you going?” She’s smirking at the idea of him being run ragged by the tag team of Jean-Pierre and Misty, but cocks her head to the side as she asks the question.

“Um, the 30th? It’s Philippe’s actual birthday, and I was going to do their special package so he gets his name called and birthday cake, plus VIP seating.”

“Get tickets for two adults and tell me what I owe you, I’ll help you manage the monsters.”

“I can’t ask you to give up your Saturday plans, Nile, this would be your whole night!”

She is already heading to the mats to separate the impromptu wrestling match that has broken out between her entire class as she calls over her shoulder.

“My Netflix account will forgive you, Book! We’ll talk about the specifics later!”

********

Philippe, Misty and Jean-Pierre were in their costumes three hours before the show would begin. With the hour-long drive, complicated parking, threat of traffic and the warning to arrive an hour before they began seating, Booker is seeing the logic of having another adult with him. Nile is due to arrive at his house soon, and Booker is staring wide-eyed at the children who have decided to re-enact Tangled, with Jean-Pierre being the horse.  _ Kids _ . 

He hears a motorcycle pull up, and goes to open the door just in time to see Nile lower the kickstand of the bike and swing one long leg over the back tire. It is a machine built for speed, and obviously very powerful. She pulls her helmet off, pulling her braids out from the collar of her protective jacket, and he is doing his damndest to not drool as she grins brightly at him. When she ducks under his arm to place her helmet on the entry table, he remembers he should probably speak to her, but she beats him to it.

“I feel like I need to tell you something, but I don’t want you to make a big deal out of it, OK?”

“Of course, what is it?”

“One of my triggers is being in a car. I’m working on it, and I can handle short trips around the city so far, but I haven’t spent a solid hour in a car without Indy since the accident.” She is standing at parade rest, and he doesn’t think she realizes that she has lifted her chin in defiance. He nods briefly, then moves to the entry hallway and reaches inside. He pulls out a familiar leather jacket and offers it to her.

“Would this help? You seemed to be comfortable with it last time.” Her eyes soften as he holds the black leather out, and he hopes that she can see that there is no judgement in his offer. He also hopes that she  _ can’t _ see what the idea of her in his jacket does to him. She smiles, and unzips her own jacket before shrugging the oversized one on. “I’ll do everything I can to keep you safe, Nile.”

“I know, Booker, thank you.”

They spend the next twenty minutes wrangling the children, forcing one last trip to the restroom -- _ yes Jean-Pierre I mean you _ \-- and grabbing all of the assorted toys and accessories that a Pirate, A Warrior Princess, and the Birthday Knight need. He watches Nile out of the corner of his eye as he pulls out onto the main road, she takes a few deep breaths, and tucks her nose into the collar of the jacket. He flicks his eyes to the rear view mirror before he carefully reaches across the console to briefly squeeze her hand. He withdraws quickly after making contact, but her hand flips over like lighting to intertwine their fingers and squeeze back. She doesn’t look at him, just focuses out the windshield, and he follows her lead.

When they finally make it to the castle, the children are still chattering at each other about what might happen during the tournament. Booker calls their attention to him, and reminds them that these are Real Knights, and that they need to follow the Queen’s orders since they are going to be guests at her castle. Nile is pressing her lips together, and he’s just happy that she isn’t outright laughing at his impromptu roleplaying. Philippe is amazed when the employees present him with a badge identifying him as the Birthday Boy, and when the Queen herself appears to take a photo with them before they make their way into the lobby. The children are fascinated by the merchandise for sale, and Nile playfully holds up a tank top that says “Wench” in olde English script. Booker shoves the images  _ that _ brings up into a dark corner of his mind. They are able to keep Jean-Pierre out of the Museum of Torture by distracting him with his big brother’s knighting ceremony, and then they go to see some of the horses that are being prepared for the show. He has no idea how he would have done this by himself, and thanks Nile roughly fifty times in the hour before they are seated. 

They are soon in position in the front row, right in the center, cheering for the Black and White Knight--Philippe is going to scream himself hoarse, especially when the knights ride out for their introductions and theirs acknowledge that they are in matching colors. They are in one of the smaller tables, so Booker is able to sit next to Nile, and Philippe asks to sit at the end, with Misty and Jean-Pierre taking the middle seats. They watch the horsemanship demonstration, and Booker finds himself leaning over to murmur to Nile, “this reminds me of growing up.”

“Are you trying to tell me you were a knight?” She teases.

“No, my grandparents had horses, and I used to spend hours in the saddle during the summers with them. It’s an incredible feeling.” He can almost smell the French countryside and his grandmother’s perfume as the memories rush back.

“Why don’t you ride anymore?”

“Life happened,  _ ma fée _ , life happened.” They are quiet except for the cheering for the rest of the show.

Misty almost climbs the wall to get to the arena when the knights begin throwing carnations into the crowd after each game of skill, and Philippe is overjoyed when their knight wins the entire tournament. Booker restrains himself from punching a fully armored knight when he gives the champion’s favor to Nile. 

They spend time after the tournament meeting the knights and getting more photos. Booker is going to treasure the one he got of the Queen kneeling down to kiss Philippe’s cheek as a birthday gift. The children are still riding high when they load into the car, but it only takes about fifteen minutes for the noise in the backseat to settle into nothing. Booker is driving with his elbow relaxed on the console when he feels Nile’s hand slip into his for the rest of the drive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Jacket Returns!!!!  
> and awww, hand holding. Remember, we are in it for the long-term here people.


	8. Forgiveness and Misunderstandings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nile goes out for dinner, and a brief look into Booker's mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for missing last week (and then being late this week) But I now have a second story (The Veiled Hollow) if you want to give that a read too!

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Indy is leaning against the doorway to the kitchen, watching her like a hawk as she gathers up her keys, jacket and helmet. Nile clenches her fist around the keychain, taking a deep breath before she turns to her baby brother.

“I’m not sure I want to, but I feel like I  _ need  _ to. It’s her birthday, Indy, and we always gave her such a hard time about it. Plus, Sam said he’s only in town for a couple of days, so it has to be now.”

“Do you want me to come with?”

“No, but having a few episodes of Bake Off and brownies afterwards might help.”

“Done.” He steps forward quickly, wrapping her up in one of his signature bear hugs. “Drive safe, OK?”

She throws him a tight smile before rushing out the door to where her bike is parked. With a quick check of the traffic conditions, she sends Sam a text with her ETA before zipping her phone into a protective pocket and bringing her bike to life beneath her. She steadily weaves through traffic, ignoring how close the restaurant where Sam made the reservation is to Booker’s neighborhood. She’ll see the boys at class tomorrow.

Her phone vibrates against her ribs as she is parking, and she pulls it out of her pocket, seeing the text from Sam saying that he was running a little late, but would be parking himself soon. She drops a pin to the parking garage she is in so they can meet up more easily, then leans against her bike, rearranging her flowing blouse and making sure there isn’t any road grime on her heeled boots and slacks -- she has a feeling the “Modern French Cuisine” set wouldn’t appreciate it coming into their space. A black Audi pulls into the space next to her, and Sam’s friendly smile appears over the roof as he exits the car. 

“Nile! I’m so glad you agreed to meet me. I really didn’t want to spend today alone, you know?” He gives her a quick hug, before gesturing her on towards the sidewalk.

“I get it. I wasn’t sure what to do with myself either. How’s the conference going?”

“The top psychological minds in the country getting drunk and hashing out arguments that they started in undergrad? Then presenting on the advancement of understanding neurodiversity with massive hangovers? It’s enlightening.” They chuckle together as they reach the street level. Sam’s hands are in the pockets of his peacoat and Nile has her arms wrapped around her middle, missing the weight of an overly-large leather jacket. 

They are only a few feet onto the sidewalk when she slams into a massive wall of a person, who immediately wraps large hands around her arms to keep her from hitting the pavement.

_ “Je suis vraiment désolé, mademoiselle. Ça va? _ Nile?” The rapid French in a familiar voice washes over her at the same time she smells the calming leather-smoke-pine scent of Booker’s jacket. She snaps her head up to meet his startled and concerned gaze.

“Book? What are you doing here? You look like hell, what's wrong?”  _ God damnit, mouth. Could you be more rude?  _

He lifts a bag that is dangling on his wrist, “the boys have the flu… had to make a run for their medications. It’s been a rough couple of days. I meant to text you and tell you, I guess I forgot, I’m sorry.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it, but… you know you can call me if you need to, right?” She searches his eyes to make sure that he is listening to her. He nods, then glances to the side and takes a step back, taking his warmth and the scent of  _ comfort _ with him.

“Of course, thank you. But right now, I’m keeping you from your evening.”

“Oh, sorry! Booker, this is Sameh Ali. Sam, this is Booker, I teach his sons at the gym.”

The two men exchange pleasantries and shake hands briefly, before Sam reminds her of their reservation time. They quickly say goodbye and head their separate ways. As she and Sam stand in line to give their name to the hostess, she notices that he keeps giving her odd looks.

“What?”

“Your students’ dad, huh?”

“Yeah… what about it?”

He chuckles and shakes his head, then grins at her with a little sadness in his eyes.

“Dizzy always said that she couldn’t tell if you were ace or oblivious. She used to bitch all the time about how you had guys falling all over you when you went out together and never seemed to notice. Nice to see it in person.”

Nile closes her eyes, holding back the tears as memories of countless evenings of leave slam into her. Dizzy, handing her a truly awful shot of tequila, Jay pushing her up on the stage for karaoke, the three of them dancing together and stumbling their way back to base and sneaking past the MPs. The way Dizzy always crushed her water bottles before throwing them away -- even in the middle of the night when it was loud as fuck, and how Jay could clear the room with gas if she ate anything that was related to dairy. She feels someone grip her hand and opens her eyes to see Sam standing before her, tears shining in his eyes as well.

“They just called us. Let’s go eat the biggest steak possible in Dizzy’s honor, OK?”

“Only if you buy me a tequila shot to start the night.”

“One each, then water, deal?”

“Deal.”

They take their shots -confusing the hell out of their server- and spend their dinner discussing their memories of their fallen sister. Sam shares some of the mischief they had gotten into as children and Nile tells him about some of the things they had gotten into back in basic training and during downtime in Afghanistan. She notices other diners glaring at them over romantic candlelight when they laugh too loudly and tries to tamp down her reactions. 

"She always hated that her birthday was on Valentine's Day. She said she had it worse than the Christmas kids, since at least  _ their _ holiday was more than a corporate cash grab." Sam stares down into his water glass, and she thinks they are both wishing for something stronger.

"Bullshit. I mean, yeah, that may be part of it, but you know as well as I do that she just hated the fact that candy didn't go on sale until the next day." The smile they share now is softer, no loud laughter following. Nile takes a steadying breath.

"I'm so damn sorry, Sameh-"

"Nile, no."

"It should have been me. She should never have been on that truck, and it’s my fault because I didn't see the knife in time and I'm so fucking sorry."

Her ears are ringing and the table is blurry in front of her, the air is thick, and someone is touching her hand, but it's not right, the hand is too smooth, too small,  _ where is he, he was just here.. _ .

"Nile!" Sam’s voice is sharp and she looks up to meet his worried, tear-stained eyes. "It wasn't your fault. Dizzy  _ loved _ you. Just like you loved her, and Jay. You were  _ dying _ . They weren't going to leave you alone. Not then. Would you have left them, would you have  _ blamed _ them?"

"No," she chokes out through the boulder on her chest.

"Then stop. Please. My little sister did exactly what she was trained to do. And she stayed with you because you were her sister too. None of us blame you, and you've got to stop blaming yourself. I know it isn't easy, but please, be nicer to yourself. "

The rest of the meal is subdued, as is the walk back to their vehicles. Sam gives her a solid, long hug before they say their goodbyes and he reminds her to visit his family if she ever finds herself in Cincinnati. She gathers herself and makes the drive home, counting white vehicles as she passes them to keep the tears at bay.

She walks into a quiet apartment filled with the smell of fresh brownies, and Indy calls out from his spot on the couch, "do you want Noel and Sandy or Mel and Sue?"

"Mel and Sue, please," she replies, snagging a brownie off the plate on the counter as she walks to the couch and curls up next to her little brother.

"Told you he doesn't hate you." 

Her breath catches, "how did you know."

"Because I couldn't imagine hating Dizzy if it were the other way around."

She wipes away the tears that begin to fall, and loses herself into a fantasy world of soft music, puns, bread, and friendly competition. 

********

Andy meets him at the door to the garage. He takes comfort in the brief grip to the back of his neck as she pulls him inside and takes the medications from the bag he's clutching in his hand. 

“Jean-Pierre was sick once more, but was able to keep some water down. Philippe drank a little chicken broth, but his fever has been holding steady. Quynh just got them out of the bath and into clean pajamas and is putting them to bed.”

“Thank you, I don’t know what I would do without you two.” He knows that his exhaustion isn’t allowing him to convey how much these women mean to him, but makes a mental note to get Quynh a new pair of Manolo Blahniks, and Andy a bottle of the finest vodka Russia has to offer. 

“Stop it. You’ve patched up plenty of my bullet holes and carried Quynh away from a burning car. This is the least we could do. I’ll take the meds to the boys, you go take a shower while we reheat dinner. You look like shit, little brother.” She bumps their heads together and shoves him down the hall to his room. 

After he feels slightly more awake, he pokes his head into the boys’ room, taking a moment to check on their breathing and brush their hair back from overly-warm foreheads. With a quick kiss to each boy’s cheeks, he follows the sounds of his friends’ voices to where they are standing at his kitchen island eating chinese takeout. He snatches a container of fried rice and takes a big bite. 

“I ran into Nile after I left the pharmacy. I had forgotten to tell her about the boys being sick, so I guess it is for the best, so she won’t expect them for class tomorrow.”

“What was she doing up in Friendship Heights?”

“Had a date, it seems. Guy named Sameh.” He shrugs, ignoring the twinge he feels in his chest when he thinks of the way the other man had smiled at her. “I completely forgot it was Valentine’s Day until I was in the pharmacy and saw all of the candy and pink, I’m sorry if I ruined any plans you had.”

Quynh snorts, “you think  _ we _ make reservations? I don’t need a card-based holiday to rock her world.” They all chuckle at the truth there, before Andy speaks up.

“Are you sure it was a date?”

“It’s  _ Valentine’s Day,  _ Andy. Why else would they be going to Matisse?” He grumbles as he stabs a piece of steamed broccoli a little harder than necessary.

“I just… I think that there could be something there for you, Book. If you let yourself try.” Her voice is soft and sure, what he is used to hearing when he is worried that he totally fucked up an op due to missing a piece of information. He  _ hates _ that voice, because it is usually right. 

“She’s a beautiful, talented, smart woman who is free to make her own decisions. She wouldn’t choose me. It has been well documented that I am a mess. She shouldn’t have to pick up the pieces when I fall apart again.”

“You haven’t had a relapse since Jean-Pierre was born, and you have gone through some heavy shit since then. Give yourself some credit.” Quynh speaks up now, her tongue as accurate as her fists. He will not look up at them, will not allow himself to hope. The conversation stagnates, and soon they are walking to the front door to walk the block to their home.

He makes one more stop to check on the boys, before deciding to just carry them to his own bed. He can’t stand the thought of them being out of his reach. When he dreams that night, it is of gentle laughter, and delicate but strong hands pulling him into a waltz.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will be participating in the Old Guard Big Bang this year (because apparently I'm a masochist) so my updates here will probably slow down--but hopefully they wont stop!  
> I do have a loose plan for everything here, but I'm kind of posting as I go, so thank you so much for your patience!


	9. Realizations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Booker has an emergency job, Nile finds out about some history, and breakfast is made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is nothing Terrible in this chapter, but Isa (yogurtfordinner) yelled at me after her first read through. so...there is a little sadness, but it has a point I swear!!!!

Booker swears as he reviews the recent activity on an account that he had flagged for possible black market ties a month ago. An account that belongs to their latest client.  _ Fuck. _ He drops the information into a shared file and runs down the hall to Andy’s office, brushing past her receptionist --Petoir is used to it by now-- and interrupting her phone call. He makes a shorthand gesture they adapted from the hand signs they use in the field, and she pulls up the information without breaking stride in the negotiations. Quynh appears next to his elbow, having gotten a copy herself.

“Are you sure?” She murmurs. Andy has gone rigid in her desk chair, wrapping up the call, her eyes flashing in rage. Booker just nods. “I’ll grab our go-bags and contact the pilot. What about the boys?”

“Joe and Nicky should be back tomorrow, I don’t know… maybe I could meet you over there?”

“No,” Andy’s voice cuts across their whispered conversation. “Quynh, make the logistic arrangements, Booker, we’re going to need you on site. Call Nile. The boys trust her, and we know that she has training and can take care of them. It’ll only be for a night. I’ll call Joe and Nicky and tell them to get moving.”

He rushes back to his office, snagging his cell phone and dialing Nile before he has thought through what he's going to say.

“Hey Book! What’s going on? Is everything OK?”

“ _ Oui.  _ Well… not really. I mean, the boys are fine, but I… I need to ask a favor.”

“What’s up?”

“Work trip, totally unexpected, and Joe and Nicky are out of town, but you know that... ”

“How long?” She interrupts him.

“What?”

“How long are you going to be gone, and how long do you need me to watch them?” She sounds confident and no-nonsense. He feels like he’s getting a glimpse of what she was like in the Marines.

“We’ll be gone at least a week, but Joe and Nicky should be back tomorrow, so I only need you to take care of them tonight and get them back to school in the morning.”

“No problem. Is there anything I need to do to pick them up?”

“I’ll call the office, but you’ll need to show your ID.”

“Ok, don’t worry. Just be safe, alright, Booker?”

He reassures her that he will, and tells her that he will send more information once he is en route and has more than three seconds to spare. He then calls the office at the school and explains the change in plans to the boys’ teachers. After he makes the necessary arrangements, he takes a deep breath, closes his eyes and makes the switch from father to mercenary.

********

Jean-Pierre rockets out of the school building and hurls himself at Nile’s waist. Philippe looks more hesitant, and she knows that he is worried about the sudden change of plans. She focuses on keeping the boys entertained for the night and lets Philippe guide her through their nighttime routine. She claims the spare room, resisting the temptation to go snooping in Booker’s room for a shirt or hoodie to sleep in.  _ That’s girlfriend shit. He doesn’t think of you like that, don’t make it weird.  _

After the boys have gone to bed, Nile sends Booker a quick text to let him know that all is quiet on the homefront. She is scrolling through her phone when all of a sudden it vibrates to life with a call from Joe.

“Hey boss! How has the vacation been?”

“Oh, it is lovely. The snow, the fireplace, the blizzard that hit two hours ago…”

“Oh, no.”

“I’m sorry, Nile. We don’t know when the weather will clear. Can you handle the boys tomorrow night too?”

“Yeah, I’ll just have to run by the apartment for some more clothes, but that’s not a big deal. They’re actually pretty easy. Philippe has the whole schedule memorized.”

“Yeah, he’s a bit of a worrier. Nicky is working on creating a document with the schedule we usually follow when Booker’s gone a couple of days, but this one is more serious, he said they won't be back until Saturday most likely, and he doesn’t turn his personal cell on during a job because he worries that it could be traced back to the kids. If there’s an emergency, use the sat-phone number we’re sending to you, but otherwise we can update him on all of this when he gets stateside. Hopefully we will be able to get out soon. Once the snow lets up, Nicky and I are going to start digging our way out.”

“It’s really no big deal, Joe. Don’t risk yourselves getting hypothermia just because I’m the one with the boys. I can handle it, and  _ if _ something comes up, I can call you guys or one of the 3 emergency numbers listed on the fridge.”

“We do not deserve you, little sister.”

“Go snuggle your boy toy, boss.”

They say their goodnights and Nile settles into bed easily, desperately ignoring how even the sheets in the guest room smells like pine and safety.

********

The next couple of days go fairly easily. Nile adjusts quickly to wrangling two small boys out of their beds and into school uniforms, ignores the comments some of the other parents or caretakers make about “looking unprofessional” when she walks the boys to school in her motorcycle leathers or gym uniform, and holds down the fort of the gym while Joe and Nicky keep her updated on their lack of progress in getting off the mountain. Well, Joe keeps her updated. Nicky is frequently heard cursing in Italian at the general situation. 

It isn’t until Wednesday night that things take a turn.

"Miss Nile?" Philippe's quiet voice comes from the top bunk. She peeks through the slats at the edge of the bed, finding those bright eyes peering out from under his blanket.

"What is it, little knight? What's wrong?"

"Papa is going to come home, right?"

Nile's heart sinks. She has been doing her best to keep them distracted, but this boy is smart, and this was the longest Booker had been gone, to her knowledge.

"Maman… Maman didn't come home… and… and Jean-Pierre doesn't remember her anymore and I can't remember her laugh and Papa is smiling again..."

"Hey, hey, it's OK, honey. Your daddy is gonna come back. Don't worry. He said that he was going to be gone for one week, and this is the third day. He loves you so much, baby, and he is going to come home, even if I have to go and find him, OK? He would never leave you."

After a quiet sniff, he wipes his face on his pillow, trying to hide his tears.

“Do you want me to sing for you? Is there something Booker does that would help?” She’s frantic at this point. Seconds away from scrambling for the emergency sat-phone number Joe had texted her. She had signed up for watching these babies for a night, not helping them through abandonment issues, damnit!

“Could… could you sing the song? The one from the new Frozen movie? That Elsa’s maman sings?”

“Yeah. Yeah, baby, I can do that. Do you want to cuddle with me in the chair or hold my hand?”

She remembers nights after that horrible call when her own mother would hold her close and sing her dad’s favorite lullaby as they both sobbed. 

He shakes his head, pulling a worn stuffed puppy closer. Those doe-eyes should be illegal, she thinks to herself, pulling her phone out to get the lyrics. It takes her a second to find the right rhythm and key, but he doesn’t seem to mind. By the end of the song, his breath has evened out, joining his brother’s quiet snores from the lower bunk.

Nile holds her emotions in check until she makes it back to the living room. Her hands shake as she sends a text to Nicky asking what the fuck had happened with Booker’s wife. She has known the man for six months now, and respected his privacy, but no one had ever provided a clear answer about where the boys’ mother was, or even her name. Nicky would know, and he would be discreet and respectful, Joe would be torn between telling her and maintaining his friend’s secret.

The answer she receives twenty minutes later makes her blood run cold and her vision go red.

********

Thursday morning is an exercise in controlled chaos. Jean-Pierre had somehow "misplaced" one of his dress shoes after school yesterday, and it is clear to Nile that Philippe hadn't slept well, as he has no patience for his brother’s antics, and Nile has already derailed two screaming matches over who used what plate and who would get to hold her hand on the walk to school.

After seeing the boys safely inside and ignoring the side-eyed glares and haughty sniffs of the dreaded Mrs. Kozak and some of the mothers, Nile squares her shoulders and prepares to handle the classes Joe had on the schedule.

She is ready to strangle the next meathead who questions her abilities as an instructor because she has boobs. She barricades herself in Joe's office during her lunch break with a microwave dinner of questionable age before making a call.

"Hello Dr. Jones."

"That shit stopped being funny two years ago, D'Nile. What's the matter? Problems with Lover Boy?"

"You  _ know _ it's not like that, Indy. Booker is just a friend. But yeah, it's sorta about him. And his ex."

"No shit? Just a second--" She hears muffled sounds of conversation, then the sound of a door closing before her brother’s voice comes back on the line. "Sorry, I'm in the library, figured this would need a private room."

She feels a pang of guilt for interrupting his studies, but she has no one else to talk to about this.

"It's terrible, Indy, like… really bad."

"Cancer? Murdered? What level of tragedy are we dealing with here?"

"She just… she just  _ left them. _ He came home from a soccer game, and the boys were with the neighbors and she wasn't there and there were divorce papers and custody forms and her rings and phone on the table… She just…  _ left" _

"What?"

"Jean-Pierre was two, Indus, TWO. She LEFT her BABIES." The rage and sorrow that has been simmering since Nicky had replied to her last night bursts forth as she sobs. She can see it so clearly. Philippe, younger than his brother is now, looking for his mother at bedtime, Jean-Pierre not knowing what was going on, and Booker. Booker having to try to hold it together for his sons. Unable to contact the woman he had built a life with and find out why she threw them all away.

" _ Fuck _ , God, Nile. Who does that?! Wait, wait, how did you find out? Did he tell you? I thought you said he was gonna be gone until Saturday?"

She takes a deep breath, and tells him everything about the previous night. There is a moment of silence, then…

"What do you need?" God, she loves her little brother. 

"I think it's a Code Goofy. Mostly for me."

"I have my last midterm at 2, I’ll be over there as soon as I can, OK?"

"Yeah, that's perfect. Bring a change of clothes and we'll have a sleepover. I have tomorrow off. We'll do something to celebrate the end of midterms then, OK?"

"Sounds cathartic. Text me the address, see you tonight D'Nile"

"Love you, Dr. Jones"

********

Booker has missed his sons. This job had been a tough one, but  _ thank God _ they were able to wrap it up early. Well, God and Andy's ability to make any mole flip and spill their guts with a carefully raised eyebrow. 

He glares at the four steps to his front door, how dare they mock his exhaustion? Growling, he shifts his duffel on his shoulder and readies his keys. He will not be defeated by stairs.

He opens his front door to a dream world. An animated movie is blaring from the television, Jean-Pierre is shrieking in delight as he jumps up and down in an approximation of rhythm, and Philippe's smile is the brightest he had seen in years as his son mimics Nile's movement.

_ Nile _ . Nile dancing and laughing with his boys. Braids decorated with cuffs of gold chasing her like ribbons, her hands and feet gliding through practiced steps. It takes him an embarrassingly long time to notice that she is dancing with her brother, who now has Jean-Pierre thrown over his shoulder and is spinning him in circles.

"Papa!!!" Philippe charges across the room, colliding with his stomach at full speed. Booker drops to one knee, letting the duffle fall beside him as he clutches his oldest son. Soon, Jean-Pierre squirms into the hug as well, chattering excitedly as he tries to fill his father in on the adventures he missed. Booker allows the sounds of home to wash over him, burying his face in Philippe's shaggy hair before looking up and locking eyes with Nile.

"Where are Joe and Nicky?"

"Pro tip? Don't plan a romantic getaway to the Rockies if you aren't 100 percent sure the blizzards are done. They got snowed in, can't get off the mountain." Her smile is soft, and she shifts her weight as though she’s uncomfortable. 

"You've been here all week? I'm so sorry, Nile. What do I owe you?" He stands, the boys dangling from his neck and held tightly in his arms.

She waves a hand dismissively, "don't worry about it, we had a good time. They helped me out at the gym, and Phillipe walked me through the school routine. We're friends, right? You don't owe me anything."

Indy chuckles behind her, "if anything, man, you may hate us for the new hyper-fixations we left the little guys with.  _ A Goofy Movie  _ is an underrated classic." The young man bumps shoulders with his sister before moving to turn off the television and straightening up the living room. 

He realizes that they are both already dressed for bed, Indy in a Georgetown t-shirt with random bleach stains and loose basketball shorts, Nile in a USMC tank top and leggings. Jean-Pierre's blond curls are still damp and smell of the lavender soap that they all use at bedtime. 

"One last dance party before bed then,  _ mes petite monstres _ ? Are you all tired out?" 

" _ Non!”  _

_ “Non, Papa,  _ we missed you” 

“We aren't sleepy!"

Their protests are cut short by Jean-Pierre's truly impressive yawn. Booker presses his forehead to both of his son’s in turn, then glances over to the Freeman siblings. 

“I’ll put them to bed, don’t go anywhere, yeah?” At their nods, he goes about his usual routine with the boys, ignoring the soft buzzing in the back of his mind that sounds suspiciously like  _ Nile, Nile, Nile _ . Three stories and four rounds of hugs and forehead kisses later, Booker is able to go back to the kitchen, where Nile and Indy are finishing up the dishes from their dinner.

"Thank you both for watching them, I know this wasn't the plan… you shouldn't have given up your week for me." 

Indy holds up soapy hands, "don't look at me man, I just came over tonight to celebrate the end of midterms. Nile's used to kids though, she took care of me all the time growing up."

Booker takes a breath and turns to Nile, who has her back to him as she stands on tip-toes to place dishes back in their cabinets.

"Sébastien, if you try to apologize or thank me again, I won't hesitate to throw down." His jaw drops, stunned by the use of his name and the casual confidence of her threat. The mental image of her overpowering him should not be as appealing as it is. He shakes himself.  _ Now is not the time.  _

Luckily, she hasn't noticed his distraction. "We'll finish up the dishes and get out of your way, I know you're probably looking forward to your bed." She grins over her shoulder at him, and he somehow manages to not beg her to join him in that same bed. 

"Stay," he blurts out. They both cock their heads--perfect mirrors of each other. "I mean, it's getting late, and you were already planning to stay the night, I don't want you to feel like you have to run out of my home."

"Awesome, I've been pretty excited about crashing on your couch, man. It’s longer than my bed!" Indy's genuine excitement radiates from him. 

"Thanks, Booker. Now, we've got this, go to bed before you collapse." That sounds like a wonderful idea. He retreats to his room, quickly stripping down to wash the feel of the airport off of himself, and resolutely does not think of Nile making herself at home in  _ his  _ home. 

Sleep comes quickly, after he stops berating himself for being a dirty old man. He isn't sure what wakes him at first, until he hears it again. Philippe's voice calling out. He is halfway out of bed before he recognizes the words. 

"Nile?"

"What's wrong, baby? You're supposed to be asleep," hushed, from the hallway, trying to not wake the rest of the house.

"Will you sing to me again?"

_ Sing? Again? What?  _ Then a soft chuckle, and a clear voice weaving through the air, a song that seems somehow familiar, but one he is sure was always meant to come from her. Booker collapses back into bed, hands fisting in his hair. 

_ Andy was right. Merde. I'm so goddamn fucked. _

********

Nile wakes to the smell of coffee. After a quick trip to the bathroom to make sure she is presentable and to rearrange her braids from the wrap she slept in, she quietly makes her way past the boys' room and into the kitchen. God, she needs coffee. She bites her lip to keep from laughing at the truly ridiculous position her brother had twisted himself into during the night, one leg draped off the edge of the couch, face mashed into the cushion  _ under _ his pillow, with one arm twisted to rest on his lower back. How? A mystery to the universe. 

She is still shaking her head when she steps from plush carpet to cool tile, and is not prepared for the sight that greets her. Booker’s hair is sticking up in all directions as he stands in front of the open refrigerator, absently scratching at his stomach. His bare stomach. Bare, because apparently Booker sleeps shirtless. His black sweatpants hang low on his hips, seeming to draw attention to every single line and curve of his sculpted body.

She must make a noise, because he whips his head around to her, a sleepy half smile flashing across his face, eyes squinting as they adjust from the glare of the fridge.

" _ Bonjour, ma fée. Avez-vous bien dormi? _ " His voice sounds like a smoke-filled campfire, whiskey on the rocks, and something primal. Who gave him the right to sound that good this early? 

"Huh?"  _ Thank you for your stellar contributions to not sounding like an idiot, brain. Oh God, am I drooling? Focus, Nile, you can do this _ . He smiles wider, allowing the door to swing closed as he turns towards her and grabs two mugs off of the counter.

"Did you sleep ok?"

"Oh! Oh, yeah, slept great. Thanks. You made coffee?"  _ Please, please stop making me think of you, and bed, and that voice…. _

"It's the only way to start the day. I assume you found the cream and sugar while my little terrors held you hostage?" He hands her one of the blessedly full mugs. She nods in thanks, not sure that she can trust herself to say anything aside from some highly inappropriate moans as she slides past him to doctor her cup.  _ Maybe this will make you a functional human. _

Booker leans back against the counter next to the stove and across from her, and they stay there in silent appreciation for good coffee. Then Nile sees the time and panics.

"Shit! The boys are gonna be late for school!" She almost drops her mug as she pushes herself away from the counter to run and wake them up.

"Wait, Nile, shhh, shhhhh… it's OK, I called the school and told them that I was pulling the boys for the day. Next week is spring break, they won't be missing anything." Booker is speaking. She should really listen to him, but all she can focus on is the way he had lept in front of her, causing her to be pressed against that solid, warm,  _ BARE _ , chest. He is steadying her with a gentle hand on her waist, and she feels every point of contact as she tilts her head up to stare into those deep blue eyes.

"They won't be in trouble?"

" _ Non, _ I just couldn't stand to be without them today. So I thought, let me make us all breakfast, then we can spend the day together. But I didn't know if you or Indus had any dietary restrictions…"

"We don't. Honestly, as long as it hasn't developed sentience, I'm pretty sure Indy would eat it. Cast iron stomach of a 20 year old, ya know?"

" _ Bien,  _ how does a quiche sound?"

"Amazing."

Neither one of them seem to notice that they haven’t moved. Or that Booker’s thumb is slowly rubbing back and forth along Nile's ribs while her hands are pressed to his chest. They definitely don't hear the shutter sound of a certain little brother’s camera phone documenting the moment. 

They return to their coffee, and Booker begins the process of making a quiche from scratch --well, mostly; he apologizes for having to use a store-bought pie crust-- while Nile sits on the counter and fills him in on what she and the boys got up to while he has been gone. She keeps getting her hand swatted as she snags pieces of diced vegetables from his prep station, but quietly cheers in delight when she manages to snag a cube of cheese away from him. He growls and wags a knife at her threateningly when she sticks her tongue out at him in triumph. Then, he seems to shake himself as he turns back to his work.

"How is Sameh?"  _ Wait. What? _

"Uhhh, he's fine, I guess. Why?"

"Just, I don't want your relationship with him to have suffered because you were saving my ass."

"Sam doesn't give a shit about how I spend my time, I haven’t spoken to him in almost a  _ month _ , and stop acting like you forced me to do this. You needed help. I offered. I can make my own decisions, Booker." His insistence that he is a burden on her is beginning to piss her off.  _ And what does Sam have to do with anything.  _

"It doesn't seem like he is a very attentive boyfriend--I apologize, I know it is not my place to say anything." His shoulders are tight and he has completely turned his back to her now. 

"You're right. It isn’t. But, in Sam’s defense, he  _ isn't  _ my boyfriend, he’s the brother of one of the women I served with, so…"  _ That _ gets him to look at her, something like hope in his eyes. 

********

**Baby Boy:** Attachment [image]

**Baby Boy:** if they don't get their act together can i make this into a poster and staple it to her face

**Mama:** Be nice to your sister.

**Mama:** But Dear Lord if she doesn't do something about this I'm going to. He is a very good looking young man.

**Baby Boy:** MAMA!!! NO!!!!

  
**Mama:** Oh, hush. And thank you for the new background ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to Isa for the wonderful Beta work!!!!  
> Any comments (even if it is yelling at me for making Philippe sad) are welcome!


	10. Dancing around Feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A day of Sports and Arts with the whole family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you SO MUCH to Isa for the beta work!
> 
> and thank all of you for reading! I hope you find something tantalizing in this chapter 😉😉

Nile and Joe are having their weekly training session on Tuesday when he invites her to their soccer game -- _ sorry, football match _ \-- that is coming up on Saturday. 

“It’ll be fun! Booker is planning on taking the boys over to the Arts Festival afterwards, and Nicky and I were going to tag along so that I could give them a proper education on how to find  _ good _ amateur art.” He pants as he swings one of the focus mitts over her head and she swings into a duck-and-kick combo, snapping her back leg up to connect with his hip. 

“What time is it?” She dances backward, throwing another combo of punches before catching him off guard with a spinning kick, making him grab her ankle to keep it from slamming into his chest.The grin at each other before taking a break.

Nicky hands them both towels and water bottles, pressing a kiss to Joe’s curls. Then they head to the check-in desk to enjoy a light lunch, and Joe gives her the full details of their game on Saturday. Andy and Quynh are planning on coming as well, so she would be watching with them and the boys as Nicky acts as assistant coach. She agrees to come and prepares to set her alarm for  _ too damn early for a weekend _ . Nicky tells her to bring Indy along, since the whole group has apparently adopted her little brother. 

********

Indy is just as pissed as she is to be up before 10 AM on a Saturday. He makes this known by whimpering like a puppy and falling asleep on her shoulder during the 20 minute bus ride to the park that the soccer game -- _ fuck you Joe, I haven’t had enough coffee to cater to your standards-- _ is being held at. Nile just glares out of the window and clutches her travel mug tighter. 

When they finally reach the park, there are a surprising number of people surrounding the soccer fields. She spots the black-and-red jerseys of Joe’s team and heads towards the group, dragging a still-mostly-asleep Indy with her. Andy waves at her when she sees them, and this gets Jean-Pierre’s attention.

“ _ Oncle  _ Indy!!!” 

“Huh?” The sleepy grunt is the only thing that leaves his mouth, before the tiny blond terror tackles him. Indy instinctively wraps his arms around the boy, who is dangling from his waist, and scoops him up to eye level.

“Why you gotta play me like that this early, kid? Who gave you coffee?” He tickles the boy, who shrieks and protests that he’s just excited that Papa is going to win today. Indy decides to shake the excitement out of him, and proceeds to grip Jean-Pierre by his legs, and swing him from side to side, upside down. Nile escapes the younger brothers and climbs onto the bleachers by Andy and Quynh, receiving a warm hug from Philippe, who is wearing a child-size version of his father’s “Rogues” jersey with a number 9 on the back.

Nile scans the field, catching Nicky’s eye and waving at him. He lifts his clipboard back in acknowledgement before returning his gaze to his husband, who is doing some sort of dribbling exercise with Booker. The two men are laughing at each other as they slowly begin doing more and more complicated passes and footwork while calling what she can only assume are insults to each other in various languages.

“All three of them could have gone pro in another life,” Andy informs her, chuckling as Booker does a complicated move that flips the ball up behind him, over his shoulder, and then back to his feet before he kicks it over to Joe. 

“All three?” Nile furrows her brows and looks back at Nicky, who is yelling at the opposing team’s coach in Italian, followed by a series of hand gestures from both men that seem less than sporting. The game hasn’t even started yet. 

“Booker had an offer when he was about 14, but his mom got sick and he ended up in the system. Then, he came to work for us. Joe is good enough to go out there right now with anyone, but he doesn’t care about competing at that level. Nicky would, but he had a bad knee injury about 7 years ago that took him out of the game, which is why he is only allowed to coach sometimes. He’s had to be carried off the field for fighting with the refs before.” 

Nile can see that happening, after the many times Joe has tried to calm Nicky down during exhibition matches at the gym. Though the way Joe looks at his husband with hearts dancing around his eyes and cartoon birds chirping around his head usually does little to dissuade Nicky’s temper. 

“Miss Nile?” Philippe looks up at her from the level below.

“Yes, Sir Philippe?”

“Can I sit with you? It’s still cold.”

“Sure, baby, c’mon.” Philippe clambers into her lap, wiggling into a comfortable position with his back to her chest and her arms wrapped around him. There is a whistle and the teams break up their warm ups to head to the benches. Nile waves at Booker when he looks up to their section and somehow keeps herself from gasping when he smiles brightly at her. He says something to Joe, then snatches something off the bench before jogging over to them.

“Looks like you could use this,” he says, holding out his large leather jacket. Philippe eagerly agrees, and they both hold still while he arranges it around Nile’s shoulders. The black leather immediately seems to warm her--along with the smell of pine and home. She grins at him, and then he is distracted by Joe calling him back over so they can start the game. Their little cheering squad yells encouragement to his back as he runs over to the team, and then the game starts.

Nile isn’t even sure what to call the game that follows. Brutal comes to mind. Booker and Joe are vicious in their attacks against the other team, both of them blindingly fast and seeming to read each other's mind from across the field. Joe will send a ball flying to an empty part of the field for Booker to materialize, stop it with his chest and send it careening into the goal. The other team puts up a decent fight and manages to sneak two past the Rogues’ goalie, but their boys eek out the win by one.

Nile is doing her best to distract herself from the athleticism on display by watching her brother being schooled in basic footwork drills by a six-year-old, since neither of them have the attention span to watch the full game. It’s not very effective. Booker and Joe both wave at them before heading over to the rec center to shower and change into their street clothes for the Arts Festival.

“Indus, I forgot to ask, how did your internship interview go?” Quynh calls over to Indy where he is now laying on the ground, panting in exertion as Jean-Pierre flops over his stomach. 

“Went great. Thanks for the tips! Remind… Remind me to thank Booker when I can breathe again?” he gasps.

“What tips?” Nile asks, “what internship?”

“Oh, a couple of months ago Indus asked Booker for some help with his resume for an internship in… Romania, I think? Then I got to play dress up with your brother and help him find a good all-occasions suit.” Quynh smiles at her, proud of her contribution. Nile makes a note to bring it up with her brother when they get home. 

When the guys rejoin them they are significantly less sweaty, even if their hair is still dripping water down their collars. Joe looks effortlessly stylish in black skinny-jeans with an abundance of zippers and a black bomber jacket, Nicky comfortable in his typical jeans and navy jacket. Booker is wearing jeans as well, with a plaid button-down over a grey undershirt that seems to be straining against his shoulders. Philippe and Jean-Pierre scramble to congratulate their father who thanks her and Indy for coming out to join them. 

They make the decision to feed the athletes before heading over to the festival, finding a restaurant that doesn't have too long of a wait for their large group. The meal is just as much fun as Thanksgiving had been, with Andy and Nicky picking apart every play they made, Indy and Jean-Pierre --who has earned the nickname “JP”-- coloring on the kids menu together, Quynh and Joe discussing the different artists they are looking forward to seeing at the festival, and Booker, Nile and Philippe talking about Philippe’s upcoming science fair at the end of the year. 

********

The Arts Festival is colorful, loud, and filled with people. It has turned into a beautifully sunny afternoon, and Nile is glad that she wore a crop-top under her jacket this morning. She ties the jacket around her waist and does her best to ignore the stares that she feels focused on her arm. JP drags her from booth to booth with Booker calling after his son to slow down and wait for the rest of them. There is a section of the festival focused on introducing children to creating art and Philippe begs to make a small clay figurine while JP is drawn to the fingerpainting. They both spend time layering colored sand in a bottle with Indy before heading to join in with the other adults.

Quynh steals them to show the boys how silk scarves can be dyed with a water marbling technique and purchases a few from the vendor. Nile designs a headscarf for herself and sets up a time to pick it up once the dye has dried. Indy and Andy are fascinated by a nearby forge that is repurposing scrap metal into decorative knives. Joe and Nicky are drawn in by a caricature artist. Booker is inspecting a nearby woodworker, and purchases a statuette of a bear standing on its hind legs. They all eventually reconvene and head towards the stage where different bands have been playing throughout the day.

There is a lull between live acts and a DJ starts playing a random selection of songs to keep the crowd interested. Nile laughs when she recognizes the intro to  _ Candyman _ by Christina Aguilera, but she is not expecting the deep groan from Booker next to her, or Quynh’s devious grin.

“ _ Non, non, ma sœur. S'il te plaît, ne me fais pas.” _

“Yes! Dance with me, Book!” The small woman is already dragging him to an open area in front of the stage where a dance floor has been set up. He rolls his eyes and continues to protest.

“I can’t do lifts in this shirt!”

“I can fix that!”

And the next thing Nile knows, Quynh is spinning around Booker in time with the beat, and unbuttoning his overshirt. She then ties it around her own waist in a mimicry of a skirt and takes her place in front of him, and they explode into a truly astounding swing-dance routine. For all of Booker’s protests, he is grinning widely with every intricate spin they execute and laughing loudly as he easily lifts Quynh overhead and seems to throw her with the ease of a feather. Nile looks over at Andy, who is taking pictures of her wife having a blast with their friend.

“Why aren’t you dancing with her?”

“I can’t dance for shit, and she bullied Book into taking ballroom classes with her as a “bonding exercise” when he first joined us. Best decision ever.” As Nile watches the pull and stretch of the muscles in Booker’s arms and back, she  _ really _ can’t disagree. She is startled when the song finishes and the nearby crowd bursts into applause--Joe and Nicky tossing in whistles and cat-calls for good measure.

Booker flushes with embarrassment and ducks his head as they make their way back to the group, Quynh is smiling and bowing at their admirers. Philippe and Jean-Pierre latch on to their father, asking him to make them fly like  _ tante _ Quynh. Indy claps him on the shoulder and praises his skill, since he is more of a club-dance guy himself. 

“That’s disgraceful. C’mon, I’ll teach you the basics,” Booker demands. A new song is playing, Joe has already swept Nicky into a tango, and Jean-Pierre has claimed Quynh as his partner. Nile laughs as her little brother is man-handled into a proper frame, with Booker barking out the basic steps and reminding him to  _ not _ look at his feet.

“Wait, am I the girl or are you the girl?” 

Booker rolls his eyes and replies, “you’re leading, I am following. Now. Listen to the music, and don’t look down.”

“Miss Nile? Will you dance with me?”

“I would be honored, Sir Philippe.” Nile catches Andy’s eye as they head to the dancefloor, and she sees her preparing her phone to take pictures of the ridiculousness happening. Philippe is focusing very hard on the basic box steps that she can tell Booker taught him, but remembering to look at her instead of his feet. Glancing over at JP, she sees him and Quynh just spinning in circles, cackling like maniacs. Joe and Nicky are moving like one body, with eye contact so intense Nile is a little embarrassed to see her employers like that. Indy has not stopped his running commentary and complaints for a second, and Booker is allowing the words to roll off of him as if he cannot hear them at all.

At the end of the song Indy  _ runs _ from the dancefloor, hiding behind Andy. Quynh scoops JP up and thanks him for the dance, Philippe bows to Nile and she is very proud of herself for not saying  _ Awwwww _ out loud. A more upbeat song is next and Nile recognizes  _ I Don’t Care _ by Ed Sheeran and Justin Bieber because of the many times Indy has blared it while “cooking” dinner. 

“Do you want to dance,  _ ma fée? _ I promise to try and live up to the standards my son set.” His warm voice is right behind her, and she doesn't think she's imagining his rapid breathing. 

“I can’t promise to be any better than Indy.” She grins at Booker, ignoring the way her heart jumps at the heat in his eyes and the sweat beading at his temples. The smile he responds with does  _ not help _ with the warmth building in her chest.

“You’re a fighter, Nile. You know how to read people’s bodies. Just… Just follow my lead, and I’ll make sure to take it slow. Here, this one is a salsa, so there will be some spins, and we will be side-by-side at times, OK?”

Nile’s brain has been taken over by white noise, which intensifies as he takes her hand. She does as he says and is surprised at how easy it is to fall in step with him. He never has to scold her for looking at her feet, because it is impossible to look away from his deep eyes. There are a couple stumbles, and she apologizes profusely but Booker won't hear of it, squeezing the hand at her waist and reassuring her with each misstep. It’s incredibly simple for her to read his movements from the flex of his fingers on her ribs or the shift in his shoulders and hips, and she finds herself relaxing more with each step that brings them closer in sync. Her eyes fall shut, and she takes a deep breath when one of the spins he guides her into ends with her tucked under his arm and partially in front of him, fully aware of the length of his body behind hers, and the way she can feel his breath on her neck, his nose pressed behind her ear. 

She is startled out of their bubble when the song ends and she hears the same amount of cheers that had erupted when he finished showing off with Quynh. She feels her cheeks warm, thankful that her dark complexion makes blushing almost impossible to detect. She also feels him take a sharp breath as he steps away from her, his fingers lingering at the bare skin of her waist. She then opens her eyes only to see Indy and Andy both have their phones directed at them, with matching smirks and knowing eyebrows raised.

_ Shit. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys! JP and Indy kind of took over for part of this chapter, but I don't mind. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed it, please share your thoughts via Comments, Heiroglyphs, Morse Code, High Pitch Screaming, and Interpretive Dance! whatever works for you!


	11. Henri

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Booker gets some news that will change Everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AS A HEADS UP  
> There is discussion of coming close to breaking sobriety and alcoholism.  
> There is also discussion of children with potentially terminal cancer. 
> 
> IF EITHER OF THESE ARE POTENTIAL TRIGGERS, PLEASE SEE END NOTES FOR MORE DETAILS

He walks into his kitchen to see Nile swaying to a blues song as she fixes her coffee, one of his dress shirts slipping off her shoulder, braids piled high in a bun. He smiles to himself, easing into place behind her and sliding his arms around her waist, tucking his chin into the inviting space between her neck and shoulder. She smiles back at him, humming along to the song as she twists in his arms to face him and runs one gentle hand through his bed head while the other traces his jawline. 

"The boys will be up soon," she whispers, and he groans in agreement before bending slightly to lift her up and deposit her on the counter, pressing himself between her knees.

"Not much time then,  _ mon amour," _ he growls as he leans in to claim her mouth--

_ bzzz...bzzz...bzzz...bzzz _

The vibration of his cellphone rattling across his nightstand jerks Booker out of the dream that has been tormenting him for weeks, since that fateful dance after his football game. Knowing what it feels like to hold her in his arms seems to have cursed him.

He snatches his phone, not recognizing the caller aside from it being from France. He also notes that his alarm clock is glowing red with 2:45 AM illuminating his room.  _ Fuck _ .

_ "Qui est-ce??" _ he snaps once he manages to answer the damn thing.

_ "Bas? Is that you? Thank God you didn't change your number, I don't know what I would have done…" _

Booker blinks at his ceiling in confusion, wondering if somehow his dream had transitioned into a nightmare. Why else would he be hearing his ex-wife's voice for the first time in almost five years at damn near three in the morning? Had to be a nightmare.

"Simone? What the fuck are you calling me for? You made it very clear that you have no need for me or OUR sons anymore--" His rant is cut off by the woman on the other side of the ocean --she never did want to hear what he had to say-- launching into a tale so fantastic he  _ must _ be living a nightmare. 

Half an hour later, after much swearing, crying and begging, Booker is dry-heaving into the toilet. He stands and splashes cold water onto his face with shaking hands. He refuses to look into the mirror because he doesn't think he will like the image reflected back at him. Suddenly, he turns and retreats into his closet, falling to his knees to reach the safe that he has hidden in there. He fumbles the combination twice before he is able to wrench the door open and pull out the bottle of clear alcohol inside. He grabs his phone off of the counter as he strides through his dark house and collapses at the kitchen table.

He doesn't know how long he stares at the sealed bottle before he picks up his phone and opens his messenger app. He is gasping for air, trying his damndest to focus on sending the text.

_ I need help.  _

It feels like seconds, like eons, pass before the responses fly back. They are coming. He won't have to handle this alone.

Andy and Quynh are there first. Quynh silently slips down the hallway to check on the boys as Andy kneels in front of Booker, desperately trying to get him to meet her eyes. She looks at the bottle on the table beside them and checks that the seal hasn't been broken. 

"I'm sorry, Andy… I didn't… I didn't drink any, I promise… I'm sorry." 

"Is this the only one you hid?"  _ God, why can't she sound furious. Why does she have to sound calm? _

"Yes. The only one. Nothing stronger than beer in 4 years, I swear, I'm sorry…"  _ Hate me, rage, scream, please. Please confirm that I failed. Otherwise, what is this feeling? _

"It's OK, Book. You did the right thing, you called me first. I'm taking it with me though."

"Yes, boss."

Nile arrives next, the clatter of her motorcycle helmet on the entry table echoing in the silence. Nicky and Joe are seconds behind her, out of breath from running the distance from the bus stop.

"What's going on, Booker?" Andy demands, her voice soft but powerful.

"Simone-- Simone called me… I… I had no idea, and she needs me to come to Marseille… He's  _ dying _ … And I didn't _ know, _ " his voice cracks, and he buries his hands in his hair, pulling until it hurts.

Both Nile and Andy grab his hands, preventing him from actually pulling his hair out. Andy grips the back of his neck, grounding him, and Nile gently cups his cheek until he  _ finally _ looks up at them.

"Sébastien, deep breaths. Who is dying? What didn't you know?" Her eyes are so soft, he feels as though he can see the love she carries for the world shining out of them. Radiant. He focuses on doing as she asks, on telling his friends of another failure.

"Henri…. Simone called because Henri needs a bone marrow transplant."

"Who is Henri, Booker?" Joe’s speaking now, Nicky and him forming a solid wall between their friends and the world.

"She was pregnant when she left. She thought it was her new husband's, since everything happened so quickly. But they tested them both to see if they were possible donors, and… Henri isn't his. He's mine. Another son, and he's dying, just a baby still."

Nile's hand slips off of his face and wounded sound comes from both her and Joe, who begins to pace, muttering unflattering curses at his ex-wife in more languages than Booker speaks. Nicky and Quynh have gone still, expressions torn between fury and heartbreak. Andy presses her forehead to his, and he thinks he sees a tear slide down her cheek.

"What do you need?" Quynh is the next to speak, sharp eyes already glancing between each member of the group. "You have to go to France? How long do you need? How can we help you, little brother?"

"Two weeks. I need two weeks at least, and I can't leave the boys, just-"

"Of course they are going with you. What jobs do we have coming up?" Andy takes control of the room again, standing and directing Joe to begin searching for flights, as she pulls her phone out to contact Lykon about properties he may have available in the area. Quynh and Nicky disappear to begin packing what they can without waking Philippe and Jean-Pierre. Booker runs down a list of the next month's worth of assignments, just in case. Andy reassures him that she and Quynh can handle things on their own. 

Suddenly, Booker stops. 

"What am I going to do? I can't drag the boys to the hospital, I don't even know if I'll have to stay there overnight or not. Who would be taking care of them?"

Nile reaches into an inner pocket of her motorcycle jacket, withdrawing her wallet and passport. She tosses them to Joe, who catches them with a quirked eyebrow.

"We aren't letting you do this alone, Booker."

"Joe, use my card, 4 tickets, one way, and the rental car as well. We'll worry about the return flights when we have more information." Andy passes a slim black card to Joe, who resumes his frantic searching.

********

By the time the boys wake up, Booker feels that he is at least able to convince them that this will be a fun trip to see his home country and visit the places where he lived as a boy. They are excited when he mentions they will be staying at one of  _ oncle  _ Lykon’s homes, and they are beyond thrilled when Nile announces that she will be coming with them. Jean-Pierre throws himself into her arms and kisses her on both cheeks “like Papa said they do in France!”

Quynh takes the boys to their playroom to select a few books and quiet toys to take on the plane while Nile heads back to her apartment to pack for an unexpected two week trip. She wraps Booker in a tight hug, and he is very proud of himself for allowing her to leave. Andy snaps him out of his fog and drags him back to his own closet to pack, reminding him that he needs to call the Academy to inform them that he’s pulling the boys for the rest of the school year. 

He has no idea how he is able to make it to their flight that afternoon, he just knows that the boys are listening to him, and Nile’s hand hasn’t left his elbow except to get through security. They are directed to their seats in Business Class--because Joe refused to make them deal with limited leg room. He wants to make sure that they can reach the boys at all times for the overnight flight, but unfortunately that will mean splitting up during the second leg of the journey as there were no four seats available together. Nile grabs Booker’s hand as they are taking their seats and whispers, “don’t worry about the next flight until we get off of this one, OK?”

Booker wedges himself into one of the middle seats, entrusting Philippe to the aisle with JP between them, and Nile at his right. He is amazed at how easily the boys settle in and is glad that Nicky and Joe had taken them to the gym to get out as much of their energy as possible before their overnight flight. The boys listen to the flight attendants carefully, and Philippe already has one of them wrapped around his finger. About half an hour into the flight, both boys are down for the count. 

The lights are down and the hum of the plane is lulling him to sleep. Nile is reading next to him, with one earbud in softly playing music. He glances at the book and recognizes that it’s the one he had given her for Christmas. She has post-it notes littered throughout the pages, and has been making careful notes about each poem. He leans a little closer to read over her shoulder and she flips the book closed with a playful glare.

“How are you doing, Booker? You really haven’t been able to stop and process this, like, at all,” her voice is soft, and she turns towards him, their faces less than a foot apart.

“Honestly? The only thing I keep thinking is that this is  _ not _ how I wanted to show you my hometown.” Had her eyes always been that bright?  _ Mon Dieu, she is so beautiful _ .

“You wanted to bring me to France? To your town?”

“For longer than is probably appropriate. I’ve wanted to show you where I grew up, take you to the sea. And… I know that I probably shouldn’t be telling you this…”

“Book. I need you to stop, because I know we have a  _ lot _ to talk about, and I want to have this discussion with you, I do, but we  _ really  _ shouldn’t talk about our future on a plane.”

“ _ Our  _ future,  _ ma cherie? _ ” His voice is barely above a whisper, terrified that he has misheard her. She smiles brightly at him before raising up the armrest in between them and pulling one of his arms around her to use his chest as a pillow.

“Yeah, Sébastien, ours, all four of us.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, Thank you so much to ISA @yogurtfordinner for the beta work.
> 
> that being said:  
> In this chapter, Booker Finds out that he has a third son by his ex-wife. This son is three years old and has been diagnosed with bone cancer, causing Booker to go to France and try to help with treatment options. There will not be in-depth medical discussions, and it will all turn out OK in the end, I promise. But...it's a little rough for the next little while guys. I'm sorry.
> 
> As far as the alcoholism, Booker had hid some liquor in his house and almost breaks his sobriety due to the stress of everything, but he reaches out to his friends first, and doesn't give in.


	12. Changes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mama Freeman and Nile have a talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Isa, @yogurtfordinner for the beta work!!
> 
> this is also sort of an apology for last chapter.

Nile may be regretting her life choices. The boys had been angels on the overnight flight from DC to Frankfurt, but after waking up for the rush to the flight to Marseille they lived up to their  _ petits monstres _ nicknames. Philippe has latched on to Booker, and she thinks he has picked up on the tension that is building in Booker’s broad shoulders the closer they get to landing. Jean-Pierre is, of course, tired of being confined to such a small space and she is only able to distract him with games on her phone for a short time before he starts asking a billion and one questions about how planes  _ work _ . He’s adorable, but she is beginning to fear that he is going to run out of oxygen if he doesn't take a break soon. 

She is eternally grateful to the Marine Corps for training her on how to pack efficiently, which was why she was able to easily stash two weeks worth of belongings in her military-issue rucksack that she used as a carry-on. Booker’s own black duffle bag seems to be serving the same purpose, with the boys each using their school backpacks for entertainment aids and having an adorable rolling suitcase each. The less time they spend in the airport the better, in her mind. She urges Booker to go collect the rental car while she keeps the boys in line, since she has only just begun polishing her French. She decides to spend some time practicing with the boys and Jean-Pierre is excited to help her out by pointing and naming as many things as he can.

“Remind me to kiss Joe when we get home,  _ ma fée _ . He thought ahead and got car seats for the  _ monstres. _ ” Booker scoops JP up when he returns from the rental desk, not trusting him to stay with the group through the parking lot. Nile grips Philippe’s hand and takes JP’s suitcase with her other hand as they make their way to the small SUV that Joe had reserved for them. Once they get the boys arranged safely, she and Booker climb into the front seat and Booker reflexively twines their fingers together as he programs the GPS to take them to the home they will be staying in. She isn't sure if he is holding onto her hand so tightly to ground himself, or her, but she squeezes back either way. The boys chatter away in the backseat, obviously excited to be in  _ France _ , and Nile gazes out the window to see the bustling city that overlooks the sea.

"Where are we staying again?"

"A friend of mine, Lykon, he owns properties all across the continent and rents them out when he isn't using them. Andy gave him a call and he said that he would have his home here prepared for us."

"When are you going to the hospital?"

"If you don't mind, I want to get that part handled right away. Seeing her again will not be pleasant, and I don’t want to worry the boys unnecessarily. I'll help you get them settled in and then head that way, if that's alright?"

"Of course. Just let me know what you need, Booker. I'm sure that there will be plenty to keep us all occupied while you handle what you need to."

The smile he aims at her is hollow, and she wonders how long he is going to be able to hold up this facade. The crash will be terrible, but she hopes that he can at least hold out until the evening when she can focus on him and not the impact that watching their father break down would have on the boys. She wonders if they will have an opportunity to go to the beach after this is figured out. He needs a chance to relax and get some sun. The opportunity to see him getting that sun is too good to pass up as well.

She marvels at the homes and businesses stacked and pressed against each other as they navigate the narrow, winding streets. Her jaw drops when Booker parks the car in the driveway of a gorgeous house that displays the modern architecture that was popular in the 60s, wooden slats making up the facade, with smooth concrete supports. Booker smirks at her before moving to release Jean-Pierre from his carseat.

"Booker! It's been too long, _mon_ _ami_! Please tell me _mes petits monstres_ are with you!" An attractive black man with a wide smile calls from the doorway. Jean-Pierre cheers when he sees him, calling out for _oncle_ Lykon as soon as his feet hit the ground, Philippe charging after him.

"We only talk on video chat now, but Lykon is the reason I have my job with Scythian. He was only working there to put himself through college, though." Booker has her bag slung over his shoulder, and she has to wrestle the boys' suitcases out of his hands.

"Let me help, Book. It's why I came. Nice to know that there is some backup that knows the city though." He grumbles at her when she finally gets control of the suitcases, but she can see the relief hiding in his eyes. By the time they make it to the front door, Lykon and the boys are already in one of the back bedrooms, set up with two twin size beds and currently hosting a pillow fight between two boys who had been trapped in transportation for over twelve hours and a grown ass man. In other words, Lykon is getting his ass handed to him.

Booker tosses his bag into the room next to the boys and sets Nile's in the doorway. 

"Thank you--" any further words are cut off by a well aimed pillow slamming into his face.

"Don't you dare. Now, let me show you to the bath so you can freshen up before taking care of your unpleasant business." Lykon directs Booker to the appropriate room, then takes Nile on a tour of the house, including the master bedroom where he is staying and the backyard with a  _ gorgeous  _ pool that she can’t wait to use, before ending the tour in the kitchen and offering her a wide variety of beverages.

"Only three bedrooms, huh? I noticed that there's a queen in the room next to the boys." She cuts her eyes at the man who has not stopped smiling since they appeared. Somehow, the grin gets wider.

"Yes, Andromache told me that our brother needed us, so I hopped on the first train from Rome. My company allows me to work remotely, perks of being the boss."

"How much did Andy pay you to set up this 'there was only one bed' situation?" 

He tosses her a wink and refuses to answer as Booker enters the kitchen. "The boys have crashed, so I'm going to go meet the she-devil."

Lykon and Nile both give him a hug goodbye and Nile may burrow a little deeper into his arms than she normally allows herself, but they both need the comfort. She watches him walk out the door, shoulders squared for the fight coming up, and her heart cracks a little bit more since he needs to do this part alone.

********

**Mama:** _ What does Indus mean by "Nile had to go to France?" _

**Mama:** _ You had better answer your phone. _

**Mama: 6 missed calls**

**Mama:** _ Call me when you land or I swear… _

_ Is it too late to pretend that I left my phone at the apartment? _ Nile is not looking forward to this conversation… interrogation… whatever. Checking her world clock she determines that, unfortunately, her mother will be awake by now. She leaves Lykon in the kitchen where he is preparing a feast for dinner and goes to sit on the deck that overlooks the city.

_ Ring… ring… ring… click… breathing. _

"Hey, Mama."

Silence.

"So… what exactly did Indy say?"

_ "Well, Indus said that his big sister had to go to France for a family emergency, but I  _ know  _ that isn't true, because my baby girl would  _ never _ leave the country without telling me first." _

"I can explain…"

" _ What were you thinking, Nile? We talked about this. You cannot just throw everything away for a handsome white boy because he asked you to. You  _ have  _ to make yourself a priority, because there isn't a guarantee that he will!" _

"I don't care! This isn't even about  _ him _ , Mama, it is about these boys that I love. He has to be here because his ex-wife is a bitch who left them all out to dry and apparently had  _ another _ son of his without him even knowing. And  _ that baby needs him now.  _ So if I can take some of the weight for him, I will. Because I love him, and I love these boys, and nothing you say will make me stop."

She is panting by the time she is done. There are tears in her eyes, and  _ holy fuck… did I just say I Love him? _

_ "I know, baby. I just wasn't sure you knew it yet. But next time let me know, OK, baby?” _

Nile sniffs and agrees, and then she takes a few moments to update her mother on the situation with Booker and Henri. After they hang up, she takes a few moments to plan the conversation she needs to have with the man in question when he returns to the house.

********

Nile is the only one left awake when Booker makes it back. She is sitting cross-legged on the bed, wearing her comfiest sleep pants, a sports bra to sleep in and her hair tied up to protect the cornrows that she had installed the week before, flipping through the book of poetry that he had given her months ago. He comes down the hallway without turning on any lights and pauses when he sees her on the bed.

“Funny story, your friends had ulterior motives in contacting Lykon. Looks like we are bunking together, Book.” She smiles to show that she isn’t against the idea at all, and he is still staring at her, dumbstruck.

“I can take the couch, Nile, don’t worry…”

“Stop, if you really don’t want to share, then we won't. I’ll take the couch. You’re the one who is going through medical procedures and a shit-load of life changes right now. You need to have as many good nights of sleep as you can get. Now. Be honest with me, will you sleep better with me on the couch, or with me in your arms?”

“I’m afraid that if I have one night with you next to me, I won’t let you go,” he breathes out.

“I’m alright with that,  _ mon ours _ .” His eyes flash to hers and he stalks closer to the bed. All of a sudden the exhaustion that had been lining his face for the past two days is gone, replaced with heat and desire.

“Where did you learn that,  _ ma fée? _ ”

“I called you Papa Bear earlier and Lykon gave me a quick lesson in some French pet names. Apparently you’ve been calling me your fairy for most of the time we’ve known each other. Why a fairy?” She raises an eyebrow at him as he sits next to her on the bed, leaning into her space when she moves to recline on the pillows behind her.

“Because you are enchanting, of course. Bringing magic into our lives.” She presses her hand to his mouth as he descends for a kiss, chuckling at the furrow of his brow.

“No kissing until you’ve at least asked me out, Sébastien, what kind of girl do you take me for?” She can feel him smile against her palm as he replies, “the best kind,  _ ma cherie _ .”

She urges him to go change for bed, and her breath catches in her chest when he returns, shirtless and in those damn black sweatpants and crawls into bed next to her. He wraps her in his arms as he lays on his back and she falls asleep listening to his heartbeat beneath her ear. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAHAHHAHAHAHAHA!
> 
> Nile isn't gonna cave without getting Wood properly!  
> ;)


	13. Declaration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WORDS ARE SAID. COMMUNICATION IS FINALLY HAPPENING.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE NOTE: later in the chapter there will be in-person dialogue that is Italicized. This indicates French, because I DO NOT SPEAK FRENCH and do not trust Google Translate for anything more than a couple of basic words. Since this chapter is from Booker's POV, HE understands it, but hell if I would.
> 
> Thank you as always to @yogurtfordinner for the Beta Work  
> and an EXTRA SPECIAL thank you for this and upcoming chapters regarding Pediatric Oncology and what poor Henri is going through to @druidspell who is helping me understand the medical procedures from a layman's perspective so i dont drown myself in medical research

"Papa?" There is a small hand shaking his shoulder, and he blearily turns towards it, away from the warm figure he had been wrapped around. 

"Jean-Pierre, what's wrong,  _ mon fils?" _ His son shrugs, and Booker catches a glimpse of Philippe peeking around the doorframe. "Having a hard time sleeping in a new place?" 

They both nod, and he rearranges himself, extracting his arm from underneath Nile, who moves closer to him with a questioning sound.  _ Mon Dieu, she's wiggling backwards to get closer to me. Am I dreaming this? _

"Come on then, boys, but don't wake Nile up," he whispers, and Jean-Pierre needs no further invitation, clambering on the bed and shoving a knee into Booker’s abdomen as he does so. He feels the bed shake as he lets out a grunt, and glares over Jean-Pierre’s head at Nile's shoulders that are shaking with laughter. Rolling his eyes he reaches out a hand and swats her gently on the hip.

"You aren't fooling me,  _ cherie _ , no one giggles in their sleep." He is rewarded with her grinning face as she rolls over and props her head up on her hand, looking over the lump of Jean-Pierre --already falling back asleep on his chest-- and she reaches her other hand out to his eldest, who is slowly inching closer to the bed.

"Looks like your brother has hogged Papa to himself, but I wouldn't mind some extra cuddles, baby." That's all the reassurance he needs to climb onto the bed and worm his way in between them. Booker does his best to not be jealous of his own son but  _ merde,  _ it had felt incredible to hold her close to him all night. Their eyes meet as she kisses Philippe on the forehead and begins to hum the lullaby he had heard her sing before. To his surprise, she starts running her fingers through his own hair as she does. He feels as if his spine is dissolving as her nails trace along his scalp, and when she reaches the end of the song he grabs ahold of her wrist before she pulls away. He presses a kiss to her fingertips, the back of her hand, and then her palm, never breaking eye contact with her. When he releases her she traces those same spots with her own lips, and he fears he is going to die of a heart attack on the spot.

Then the little minx smiles, tucks her nose into the top of Philippe’s head with her forehead pressing against his shoulder and  _ falls asleep _ , as though she hadn’t just destroyed his world.

********

The next time he wakes it is to the sound of a camera shutter going off. He blinks and squints at Nile, who is holding her phone above them to get a better angle of the cuddle pile the four of them turned into. When she notices that he is awake she turns towards him with a blinding smile, tossing the phone to the bed beside her.

“Sorry for waking you, I just didn’t want to forget what this felt like,” she whispers, glancing down to where his boys are tangled around each other between the two of them. His heart seizes in his chest and for a moment he imagines another child added into the pile, a girl who looks just like her mother holding on to her big brothers.  _ Get it together, Booker. You haven’t even asked her out yet. _

“I don’t blame you, it is a wonderful feeling. Will you send the picture to me?” She nods at him, then extracts herself from the mass of limbs and leans over his pinned body. He holds his breath as she leans closer to him, only for her to press her lips to his forehead with a wicked gleam in her eyes.

“I think I heard Lykon moving around, I’m going to hunt down some coffee. Enjoy the monsters while they are unconscious,  _ mon ours _ .” She winks at him when he growls at the helpless position she’s leaving him in, and glides out of the bedroom door. He feels like he can conquer the world with the glow in his chest.

He takes his time waking the boys, enjoying the few minutes of peace he has with them. When their blue eyes blink up at him, he herds them down the hallway to the kitchen where Lykon and Nile are sitting at the table, steaming cups of coffee in hand and discussing breakfast options. Jean-Pierre immediately climbs into Nile’s lap and tucks his head under her chin. Philippe sits in a chair next to Lykon, who wraps an arm around the boy’s shoulders and allows him to lean into his side. Booker offers to make breakfast for all of them, knowing that Lykon always keeps a waffle iron in his homes. He is working on the batter when he hears Jean-Pierre’s voice, still rough from sleep.

“Did you have a bad dream, too, Nile? Is that why you were sleeping with Papa?”

Booker feels the flush creep up the back of his neck, not expecting to be called out by his six year old this early in the day. He  _ knows _ that their night together was possibly the most innocent thing that can happen between two consenting adults, but to hear it spoken about rocks him.

“No, little goblin, there are only four beds, and your Papa was nice enough to share with me.”

“Oh… you can share with me too, Nile, you smell nice and give good hugs.”

“Our beds are too small, JP,” Philippe chimes in, and Booker glances over to see that his eldest looks put-out about that, while Lykon is doing a shit job of hiding his damn grin behind his coffee mug.

“They are, but I’m just fine with snuggles like this morning to start the day if you boys are?” There is a chorus of agreement, and Booker smiles at her from across the room, unable to open his mouth without begging her to start every day the same way until the end of time. 

Lykon offers to take the boys to the Natural History Museum today, since Booker has to go back to the hospital to receive the results of the cheek swab he did the day before. He agrees to trade vehicles with his friend so that they don’t have to wrestle with the car seats. After breakfast he takes the boys back down the hall and gets ready with them in their bedroom--mostly to make sure that Jean-Pierre wears the clothes that Quynh selected that actually  _ match _ instead of whatever he finds in his bag first. He is surprised when Nile appears in jeans, sneakers and a t-shirt with the Renaissance MMA logo on the back, ready to join him at the hospital.

“You don’t have to come, Nile. You aren't here to be my keeper. Go with Lykon and the boys, enjoy the city.”

She links her elbow with his and drags him to the car as the boys say goodbye. Once he gets settled in the driver’s seat, she stops him from starting the engine.

“I am here for  _ you _ . However you need me to be. You need me to stay with the boys? Fine, we’ll have a blast. You need me to hold you when you fall apart because this whole situation is beyond fucked up? Gladly, because I’ll be crying right along with you. But do not think for a minute that I’m not also going to be by your side as much as possible. You don’t have to be strong  _ for me. _ Be strong  _ with me. _ ” Her dark eyes are boring into his, and he can only nod in response. He grabs her hand and presses a kiss to her knuckles. 

“Thank you for being here for me,  _ cherie _ . And thank you in advance for kicking my ass when I need it.”

“Any time,  _ mon ours. _ Now. Let’s get going to the hospital. I want to meet your son.”

The drive is quiet, with Nile searching the radio for some music that she can nod her head along to. She never lets go of his hand.

********

They are walking from the parking garage to the Children’s ward when Booker grabs Nile’s hand and turns her to face him. He glances around and pulls her to a nearby tranquility garden that some of the patients and visitors use, finding a quietly bubbling fountain to muffle their conversation from other passersby.

“I want to talk to you before we go in. I want to make sure that you  _ know _ how I feel.” He cups her face in his hands and she wraps her delicate fingers around one of his wrists. “I’ve been trying to keep myself from falling in love with you since that night we went out for gelato, but I think by that time it was already too late. You are  _ everything _ , Nile Freeman. You are a warrior, you are a protector, you have brought more joy to my life than I thought I could feel anymore. Quynh called me content, and she was right. But this, what is happening right now, is more than anyone should be going through, and you are right, we should wait until we know more about Henri before making any life changing decisions. But my decision was made the moment I wrapped you in my jacket on the side of the road. There is no one else I can imagine raising my sons with, and no one else I would ever want to--"

He is silenced by her mouth crashing onto his. He responds instantly, dropping one hand to her waist to pull her close, and rubbing his thumb over her cheekbone as he follows her lead in the kiss. One of her hands is fisted in his shirt as she trails her fingers through his hair, and he wonders if he can stay here forever. When she starts to draw back he follows her, not wanting to lose the taste of her for a second. 

"I didn't get to finish asking you out…" he murmurs against her grin.

"I got the gist, and I feel the same way. We can wait for our first date if we need to, but I'm all in, Sébastien." They spend a few more moments enjoying their newfound happiness, before Booker sighs and returns to the issue at hand.

“So, how badly is this going to suck?” He huffs out a laugh at his -- _ girlfriend? Need to revisit that with her later _ \-- Nile’s dry question.

“Well, aside from the obvious of the fact that we are walking into a pediatric oncology ward… I wouldn’t wish Simone’s presence on anyone. Her new husband, Antoine, seems to be alright though. He even took me aside yesterday and explained that he had no idea she had been previously married with children before the DNA results came back on Henri showing that he wasn’t a possible donor.” Whatever anger he had felt towards the nebulous person who tempted his wife away from the family they had built melted away in the face of the other man’s grief at discovering that the current treatments for his son were not enough to save him, as well as the residual shock of realizing that biologically the boy is not his son at all. Booker can't imagine the feeling of discovering that brash little Jean-Pierre or soft-spoken caring Philippe were not his own. 

He leads Nile through the hospital corridors, checking in with the nurses before they are taken to the family waiting room, where he can see Simone sitting in her perfectly styled outfit scrolling through her phone, as Antoine sits across the room from her with his head in his hands. They both look up when he and Nile enter. Antoine stands immediately, crossing the room to introduce himself to Nile and provide Booker with an update.

_ “The doctors just went in with him, so we were asked to wait in here. He had a good night, but they mentioned changing the dosage of some of his medication while we wait on the results to see if you would be a suitable match.” _ Booker notices Nile’s eyes widen at the rapid-fire French, and squeezes her hand in reassurance. He makes sure to respond carefully in English so that she isn’t totally left out of the conversation.

“Yes, they said that my results should be back by lunch, but I was hoping to spend some time getting to know Henri today as well, if that is alright?” Antoine opens his mouth to answer but is cut off by a scoff from the blonde across the room.

_ “You can’t even bother hiring help that speaks your native language? And you allow someone like her to spend time with our children? I should have taken them with me when I had the chance.”  _ The disdain that curls through her tone is clear, no matter the language she said it in, and Booker reflexively steps between Nile and the threat, noticing Nile’s spine straightening to military attention as he does. 

“She is not  _ the help _ . This woman has been more of a mother to  _ my  _ sons than you ever have been. I am grateful every day that your selfishness took you away from my boys, that Jean-Pierre doesn’t remember your face, that Philippe has learned what a mother’s love should feel like, and that all of us have a strong family that looks out for each other, since you made it damn clear that you didn’t care about us.” Somehow he isn’t yelling, but he feels himself shaking with the rage that he is barely holding at bay. He feels Nile slip a hand around his waist as she comes to stand next to him again.

“I’ve got a Bronze Star, Book. I can handle one woman who has someone else wipe her ass.”  _ Mon Dieu, she is amazing _ , he thinks to himself.

“Ma’am, you do not know me. You  _ barely _ know him any more, and you absolutely do not know the boys that he has raised without you. I may not speak French, but bitch is universal and I can speak that just fine.” She doesn’t raise her voice, just lifts her chin and glares down her nose at Simone, who is now red-faced and clearly outclassed. Nile then turns to Antoine and thanks him for keeping them informed, and even asks if he has gotten any rest recently. 

The doctor appears before much longer, and Booker is glad that the icy silence is broken by his arrival. Nile stays by his side as he listens to the specialist give him the news. While he is definitely Henri’s father, the DNA match is not strong enough to guarantee that the transplant would be successful. Then the doctor says something that causes Booker’s world to stop turning.

_ “Siblings are typically the best source for bone marrow transplants. I believe Madame Touissant mentioned that the two of you have older sons?” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SO SORRY, BUT LOOK, LOOK. BOOKER CONFESSED, THERE WAS A KISS. PLEASE DON'T KILL ME.


	14. Knights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Look......we all know what this chapter is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BLAME @DRUIDSPELL
> 
> and thank you so much Isa!! @yogurtfordinner

Something the doctor said had rattled Booker. Nile watches as his hands shake and he accepts a bag and written instructions of some kind from the doctor. They speak for a few more moments in French before Booker takes her back to the waiting area, where she does her level best to ignore the blonde woman who is glaring at her from across the room. 

"Do you want to meet Henri, Nile?" His voice is trembling, but she can tell that he is determined to spend time with the young boy.

"Not today, Book. I'll wait for you here. He should get to know you before throwing a new person at him. Tell you what, find out a favorite story of his, and I'll work with the boys on making a picture for him, Ok?"

He presses their foreheads together, mumbling something in French under his breath, before kissing her quickly and handing over the bag from the doctor. She watches him walk further down a hall to a room where he will sanitize and put on protective garments before going into Henri’s room. Nile sits in the corner where she can see the door and be ready when he returns. She scrolls through her phone, looking at the picture she had snapped just this morning, feeling her heart fill with warmth. 

She had slept so soundly last night with Booker’s arms wrapped around her. When he had turned away from her it woke her instantly, and hearing his sleep-rough voice soothing his sons had melted her heart. The distance between them when the boys climbed in bed had been worth it when she woke for the second time to feel his fingers tighten around her hip as if he was trying to pull them all closer to him in his sleep. Looking at the picture now, she can see how Jean-Pierre has one hand reaching out to her in his sleep, and Philippe has a soft smile as he is tucked under her chin. Booker had been blinking awake, and his eyes are on her in the photo, half-open and filled with warmth. Before she can second guess the decision she sends the picture to her mom, with the caption:  _ life may be hard right now, but at least these guys give great snuggles. _

Movement next to her catches her attention, and she glances over to see Antoine taking a seat. She smiles hesitantly at him and takes in his dark hair sticking up in all directions, the dark bags under his eyes and his rumpled clothes. The picture of a worried father.

“It is good that Sébastien was able to come and bring your sons with him. You must believe me, I did not know she was married when we met. It was never my intention to cause harm.” His large dark eyes are wide and sincere from what she can tell.

“I don’t think he blames you at all. Simone, on the other hand…” She cuts her eyes to the woman who is now speaking loudly on her phone in French, and from the few words Nile can understand she seems to be handling some sort of business deal. The distinctly French snort next to her draws her attention back to the man at her side. 

“I wish I could tell you that she is not normally like this, that she is a wonderful woman who is under a lot of stress, but that would be lying. Our romance was intense in the beginning, and when she told me she was pregnant, I had to do right by the child. All of this--this sickness, I wondered sometimes if it was because I do not love his mother anymore. Then, the doctor said that I couldn’t be a possible donor because we have no genetic link. And that the best matches are siblings anyway. And I think--she’s killed him. She’s killed my son who is not mine. Because she never wanted more children after him, said it was too tiring. And then, without missing a beat she pulls out her phone and calls this man I’ve never heard of. And when the call is finished, she says she has two other sons with this man who could be donors.” He shakes his head. “I cannot imagine what he went through, but to be strong enough to bring the things most precious to you across the world to help save a child you don’t know, I don’t know if I could be as good of a man as yours is.”

Nile’s stomach drops.  _ The best matches are siblings. Booker looking as though someone had punched him in the doctor's office. _ She opens the bag he had left in her care and is able to determine that they are at-home cheek swabbing kits.

“The donor has to be one of the boys, not Booker?” She breathes out, feeling like her chest is caving in.

“Well, the specialists say that is the best. Did… Did she not say that in her call?” The horror is dawning on Antoine’s face now too.

“No. No she didn’t”

********

They are quiet the whole drive back to Lykon’s house, which is still empty. Lykon has been sending pictures of the boys in front of gigantic animal skeletons throughout the day, and all three of them seem to be having a good time. The silence in the house is deafening and Nile quickly connects her phone to the speakers to get some music going. Anything to keep from having to speak herself. 

Sam Cooke's voice washes over the space, the warm tone like a familiar blanket to her soul. She turns to see Booker staring through her, down the hall to the boys' room, his whole body shaking. She quickly wraps her arms around him, pulling his face down to her shoulder, and feels him shatter in her arms.

They collapse onto the rug in front of the couch, sobbing at this horrible change in plans. Booker is rambling in French so quickly that she couldn’t process what he was saying even if she wanted to. She lets him rant and rage at the circumstance until he is gasping and shuddering against her. When he lifts his head, his eyes are bloodshot and tears are still falling. He raises a gentle hand and wipes tears off of her face, before rearranging them so that he is holding her. She feels him kiss her temple and wrap his arms tight around her. She loses track of time as they grieve together. 

"How do I ask this of them?" he whispers, voice broken with tears.

"You don't, baby. You tell them what is going on. Philippe will understand the basics. And our little knight will be brave and offer, because that is the man you are raising." She feels him whimper behind her. 

"I'm supposed to protect them. I was supposed to be the donor. How can this be happening?"

She doesn't have an answer, how could she? She pulls him to his feet and shuffles him into the bathroom to take a shower. She then calls Mama to get her recipe for Mac and Cheese so they can have some comfort food tonight.

She has just finished crying  _ again _ and putting the dish in the oven when she hears Booker coming back down the hall. She sets the oven timer and turns to face him, and is surprised when he immediately draws her in for a kiss. This one is different from their first this morning. He takes his time, pulling sounds from her with his thoroughness. She breaks away to catch her breath, and he nips along her jawline before reclaiming her lips. 

"Hope we aren't interrupting!" Lykon’s voice calls from the living room. Booker swears and reflexively tightens his hold on her while Nile buries her face in his chest and hopes that the boys didn't see anything. 

_ You are a Marine. You survived two tours, having your throat cut and being blown up. You will stand your ground-- _

"Papa, why were you chewing on Nile’s face?" Jean-Pierre’s innocent voice interrupts her inner pep-talk.

_ You are gonna let their father handle this one. _ Nile pulls back briefly, chokes out a laugh at the gobsmacked expression on Booker’s face, and makes a tactical retreat towards her own shower. 

********

The mac and cheese was a hit at dinner, which causes Nile to preen a little bit since it was her first time making her mother's sacred recipe. Philippe asks if they can send her a picture of their clean plates to prove that Nile did it right, and Booker agrees that is a great idea.

Before the boys run off to destroy their room in a pretense of getting ready for bed, Booker calls a family meeting. He takes a seat on the low coffee table, with Lykon in an armchair and Nile sitting on the couch with the boys. She wants to gather them both in her arms and run away, but this needs to be done.

"Philippe, Jean-Pierre… I lied to you when I told you we were just coming to France to visit. I'm sorry. That was wrong of me."

"It's OK, Papa." Philippe's soft voice breaks in.

" _ Merci,  _ but, the reason I lied is because I had to do something sort of scary, and I didn't want you to worry about it. I got a call from  _ votre maman. _ She has another little boy who just turned four years old, and he is very sick."

"Another brother? I'm not the little brother anymore?"

"You are, Jean-Pierre, you're both. But this is really hard for Papa, so let him finish, OK little goblin?" Nile ruffles his cornsilk hair so he knows he's not in trouble. Booker smiles weakly at her.

"You're right though,  _ mon fils, _ you have another little brother. He was raised with a different Papa, because I didn't know about him, and your  _ maman _ \--"

"Didn't want us." Nile stares at Philippe, she's never heard his voice that cold. He is sitting on the edge of the couch, and JP is clutching his hand. Nile thinks that may be the only thing that is keeping him from running.

" _ Non. _ No, that is not why she left. She had her reasons, we just don't know them. It was not your fault. But she called me when she found out the little one, Henri, was so sick because we thought that I could help. There is a treatment that the doctors can do. They take a little bit of a healthy person’s bone and put it into the sick person and it helps them get better, like magic. But you have to do some tests to make sure that your bones and their bones match up. It can be a good match if it is mothers and fathers, but it is even better if it is brothers or sisters.”

“Will the test hurt?”

“No, no, Jean-Pierre. I just take a big q-tip and wipe the inside of your mouth with it. It doesn’t hurt at all. But you do not have to do this,  _ petit monstre.  _ You understand? You don’t have to.”

“Will he get better if we don’t help him?” Philippe is staring at Booker, and Nile is so glad that she is sitting on the arm of the couch, slightly behind him. The boy looks ready to go to war.

“I… I don’t know. He may. But it would take a long time, and he would be hurting.”

“I’ll do it. Jean-Pierre is still little. I can do it. And if Henri is a baby still he shouldn’t have to hurt anymore.” Nile closes her eyes against the tears welling up. Their little knight, standing strong with his shield in front of his brothers.

Booker tries to get him to sleep on it, but the boys definitely inherited his stubbornness. At one point Philippe is standing toe-to-toe with his father, and she can clearly see the man he is going to grow up to be. Jean-Pierre starts crying because he wants to help too, and Nile promises to spend time with him in the morning working on some get-well pictures for his new brother. An hour later the DNA sample is safely collected from Philippe, both boys are watching a calming movie in their bedroom, and Lykon has headed to bed. Nile wraps Booker in another hug, enjoying his warmth.

“Thank you for being here. I’m grateful to Lykon, but honestly, Nile, I have no idea how I would have been able to survive this without you.”

“Am I going to have to threaten to kick your ass again? Stop thanking me. Besides, I’m your girlfriend now, right? Isn’t this what girlfriends do?”

He pulls back to look down at her, and she leans against the strong support of his arms, smiling softly.

“Are you? Even though I  _ still _ haven’t asked you out properly?”

She shrugs, “ask me now, then, if it’s bothering you so much.”

“I won’t ask. I promise you,  _ mon ange _ . Before we board the plane to return home, I will take you on the best first date of your life.” He seals the deal with a soft kiss. She doesn’t bother telling him that the fact he is even attempting to plan something puts it leagues ahead of her other first dates.

********

The next day, Nile takes the boys on a shopping trip to a local toy store. They spend hours searching for the perfect stuffed animal, easy coloring books aimed at children under five years old, and quite a bit of Nile asking the boys to read the French titles of different books to her. They each pick a favorite book to share with Henri, and Jean-Pierre is the one who locates the stuffed lion that looks like it could be used to prop the little boy up in his hospital bed. 

“Papa said Henri likes cats. And lions are brave and strong. It will help protect him, right, Nile?” Jean-Pierre is holding the large plush up for her inspection and she agrees that it looks brave and strong enough to protect the new member of the little family. “And look, Philippe! Look, a toy knight! It has a horse and everything, like at your birthday!”

Philippe takes the figurine out of his brother’s hand, tracing the black horse and the black and silver armor of the knight. He has been quiet all day, and she will buy the boy a full suit of armor if it gets him to open up to her. 

“JP, why don't you go see if there are coloring books about lions for Henri?” She suggests, and he takes off immediately. “Talk to me, Sir Philippe, what are you worried about?”

“What if it doesn’t work?” His eyes pierce through her soul. “What if, what if the stuff in my bones isn’t good enough for Henri, and they have to use Jean-Pierre instead? What if none of it works and he keeps getting sicker?” Tears are welling in those blue eyes that look so much like his father’s. Nile kneels down next to him and pulls him close to her.

“You know what, baby, I don’t think we need to worry about that at all. You know why?” He shakes his head against her shoulder. “Because I believe that Henri has the best doctors around, and he is your brother, and you are strong enough for ten little brothers. And if it doesn’t work, it won't be your fault. It won’t be anyone’s fault. Sometimes things happen and it is horrible and sad, but we won’t worry about that right now, OK?”

He nods and she kisses his forehead before Jean-Pierre comes tearing around the end of the isle with four coloring books of lions. She buys them all, as well as one toy knight, before loading the boys back in the car and going back to the house to wait for Booker. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm just gonna....go over there now.

**Author's Note:**

> Ok. I did the thing. This is the first piece I've ever written and semi-polished enough to share with not-family. Please let me know what you think.
> 
> I fully blame the Book of Nile Group Chat on tumblr for driving me to distraction with this fic (and yes, I know i was the one who suggested it first).
> 
> big thanks also to @sphinx81, @highlightcity159, and @wolfshavenokings for reading some of my snippets from later on in the story and encouraging me to make a go of it (after I kicked in the door of their DMs)
> 
> If you want to come yell at me directly on tumblr, I'm @winterequinoxx


End file.
